CARA AND KAHLAN: FIRE IGNITED
by GREATSHOW
Summary: When a mysterious old woman — Shota — is saved from certain death by firefighter Cara Mason, she offers to do the same in turn, telling the young Mord-Sith there are other universes all existing at one time. And that, in this one, Cara Mason will die.
1. PART 1

**Note**: Posted this at LiveJournal on March 21, 2011, and finally posted it here too.

The harshest curse words have been bleeped out (mainly the F-word), since this is the PG-13/TV-14 version. The uncensored version is at LiveJournal under the same title/same user name. This story is a modern AU story and I'm thinking that I may have this Cara and Kahlan mentioned in _Flaming Dead_. The reasons? Well, it has to do with parallel universes, which is something _Flaming Dead_ may touch on later.** In _Flaming Dead_, as you know, Cara and Kahlan are reincarnated in the modern world. But ****what if there are other universes existing at the same time, and with their own Cara and Kahlan?** That's where the idea for _Fire Ignited_ came from. Well, that, my desire to write Cara as a firefighter, and the fact that a real-life fire is the inspiration for the beginning fire scene. This story was going to be a one-shot, but that clearly changed.

**Summary: ****(Sci-fi/Romance)**. When a mysterious old woman — Shota — is saved from certain death by one of New York's finest firefighters, Cara Mason, she offers to do the same in turn, telling the young blond that there are other universes all existing at one time. And that, in this one, Cara Mason is destined to die. In order to prevent this fate, Cara will be given the choice of three potential love interests showing up on her doorstep and must choose the right one. In succeeding order, they will appear - Leo Dane, the alluring Dahlia from down the street, and finally...Kahlan Amnell. Cara _must choose once, not twice, or even attempt a thrice, for making the right choice will ensure escape of the spoken issued demise._

IIII

"Hurry. Please hurry." A male voice is amplified over the Brooklyn 911 dispatch line at 3:30 p.m., June 28th. "I'm at Big Ben's Auto Repair Shop on Kings Highway," the man screeches, clearly panicked. "A huge fire has engulfed the 331 elevator building near here. Hurry."

After that, the calls become more incessant against the switchboard, people asking to get the firetrucks over there are and to please hurry.

Danger emanates throughout the atmosphere as black smoke curls into the hot, humid air over Kings Highway. Cars honk. Some passengers get out to view the burning building. The building is comprised of 16 units and 7 floors. It features a grand main lobby, a land-scaped court yard, an indoor and outdoor recreation area for building residents, and an indoor heated garage space available for purchase, among other things. And now, most of that is being devoured. Abolished by the red monster which feeds on air and expels gray puffs of destruction in its place. People can be seen hanging from the windows, trying to escape; some do, some don't.

Rush hour wanes, but not before traffic floods the four-lane area lined with mediocre food stores, item shops, and drug stores.

Close by, there is Big Ben's Auto Repair Shop, one of the area's best auto repair businesses. The building occupies almost two acres of land, an outreaching mass of stucco and steel. Inside, there are items so highly combustible that they burn like gasoline. Among all its impressive constructions, it makes no sense why no one thought to install a sprinkler system. It and other close-by buildings have now caught on fire, the wind helping to carry the fiery beast.

At the time of the calls, and as alarms sound at Engine Co. 11 of the Fire Department City of New York (FDNY) , some of the crew share sandwiches with two veteran commanders, Assistant Fire Chief Tony Starvos and Battalion Chief Edward Dawson. The men part with their meals, grab their gear and head for the door.

The men on Ladder 5 and Engine 10 trail closely. Two miles separate them and the fire.

Firefighter Cara Mason rides aboard Ladder 5. "Ladder work" is not her usual line of firefighting, and she wishes she had jumped aboard Engine 11, but this will do for now. She likes to "change it up," and as long as she is praised for her work, like so many other times before, it will more than do.

Cara has been fascinated with fire since she was age 12. And with work, her reputation for being "one of Brooklyn's finest" proceeds her. Many have praised her firefighting skills, and many more have elevated her to "role model for young girls and women everywhere" for showing that firefighting has female faces as well as the males ones dominating the field. Her golden hair, stopping a little past her shoulders, blue-green eyes, and amazing beauty have landed her on the covers of various local men's magazines — mostly without her permission — and she has done numerous interviews, local and abroad, all of it solidifying her hometown celebrity status. And now, at age 24, she is already considered "a veteran," by way of compliments from Fire Chief Kenneth L. Gates at least. Just one year of training and two years on the job, and here she is today — a self-described "car-loving, lover of women" who lives to fight fires. Near her, close friend Adam Raymond, a potty-mouthed man of faith, runs the truck's pumps. He's a decent-looking fellow with sandy brown hair and a boyish charm, and Cara knows she can always count on him.

Engine 11 arrives blaring, red paint finish polished to a high shine. For some reason, the truck pulls up to the back of the elevator building, and crew members race there, before learning they need to get to the front. It's the front of the building that has been hit hardest. They scramble to relocate to the front entrance as Engine 10 swings around the southern side of the building.

This fire is calling Cara's name, she feels, and instead of staying put on that damn ladder, she works her way down it, grabbing necessary items — rope, her lucky axe, etc.

The smoke is thick; not just in the air, but near lower ground as well. Some of the victims are looking up at the building screaming for their loved ones who are still trapped inside.

"The fire," one woman cries profusely, "it blocked their paths," she shakes with sobs wracking her body. "And...and... Some didn't get out. They just didn't get out."

A man lunges forward. "There are women and children up there, in the recreation center. For the love of god, do something!" he yells.

Other firefighters usher the victims and onlookers back, to a safe distance. Some spray water at the covered walkway, and then higher, into the open windows on the lowest level.

"I need men on the mechanic store over there; it's burning fast. Just as fast. And a few other stores have already caught fire," Battalion Chief Dawson reports. "We haven't even done anything yet."

"I'll hurry." Cara steps out from behind a truck, daring flashing in her eyes. It's the daring Dawson has come to recognize right before she does something stupid. As Cara turns, Dawson knows what those stupid actions will be in this case.

"F**k! We don't have time for your heroics, Cara! The few times you went into burning buildings by yourself before, you were lucky. But that luck is bound to wear out. You can't keep doing this. There are more important things than your 'fearless title,' like your life. Now get back to the ladder. We need to start hitting the higher floors."

"I wasn't aware that you were in command of my actions." Cara doesn't turn back to him.

Dawson sneers.

Cara continues. "You're right. There are more important things... Those children screaming their lungs out in that building right now come to mind." She runs toward the doors that have been sprayed down with water and allow for somewhat of an entrance.

"Cara! Damn it... Cara!" Dawson screams. "You're being reckless! Damn reckless!"

Inside Engine 10, Adam, her close friend, looks on with worry. At times like these, he always wishes Cara were rationale. "No, Cara...not again," he barely breathes.

As the highest ranking officer on scene, Starvos assumes command. He's a good-looking, stoned-faced veteran with dark hair and an intimidatingly deep voice. He and Cara have an "intimate history" and he would love to pull Cara back and demand that she see the strength in assistance, but it is too late, and there is a wider picture. A wider picture he must take care of.

Starvos sighs. Who is he kidding? That "wider picture" includes Cara. He cannot bear to let her do this...again. Risk her life so carelessly. And because of this, he throws on his protective coat and helmet, but leaves the rest of his gear behind as he marches toward the front door, set to get a hose ready.

Starvos knows this building. He had dropped off his brother, and his brother's girlfriend, here a few months ago when the two had needed a place to stay and had refused to take him up on his offer to remain with him for as long as they needed. He had also led a team through a similar building a few years back to plan how firefighters would battle a blaze in such an atmosphere. Firefighters refer to these as walk-throughs 'pre-plans.' They are supposed to provide crucial information that crews need to know in the event of a fire: the building's layout, potential hazards, the location of exits and hydrants, and the amount of water needed to douse a blaze.

Starvos has a layout, what he feels will get them through this, and shows a few of the men. But it is not a true layout; he'd only ventured a little inside the building the day he dropped his brother off. The "layout" is just a drawing of the building, with the huge lobby area he'd seen with his own eyes and a few locations he was only told about. It doesn't inform of the fact that the grand main lobby is now packed with furniture, making it one of the most extravagant "lounges" around. The drawing doesn't tell him about the enormous amount of water that will be needed for these combustible chairs and couches if they continue to burn or if all catch fire. The drawing also doesn't indicate that a potentially dangerous steel truss system partially supports the roof over the lobby, and especially the massive indoor recreation area right above the lobby — the nearest floor. The design allows for concealed spaces where fire can grow undetected over the heads of firefighters. As such, extreme heat can cause a steel truss to collapse within 20 minutes. Firefighter-language refer to these as 'widow-makers.'

Starvos now sizes up the situation and decides to lead a group of men inside the building to assess their chances. As he moves in, despite federal standards that call for incident commanders to remain outside burning buildings to coordinate firefighting, he thinks of Cara and how she disregards these standards. He hopes they find her and any potentially trapped victims before it's too late. He has faith in the woman's survival abilities, and skills to protect others, but like Dawson stated, it's only a matter of time before her luck runs out.

As the men have cleared most of the doorway with water, Starvos and his group of assistants find no fire there at the immediate entranceway, but there is enough fire eating away at the lobby's furniture and demolishing the ceiling. The lobby is a marvelous area, with displays of winding staircases and an overview of the elevator floors which seem to reach to the Heavens. But fire burns most of it. Pieces of designs and debris falling from the area, and flames tearing at the floor.

There are two people trapped near a deteriorating staircase, under what looks to be a large, heavy, steel pole having collapsed during the stampede of people falling over each other to escape the flames licking at them; and one, a male, screams when the fire reaches his arm.

A few firemen run to the two in an attempt to extract them.

True, the fire department has a high-tech thermal imaging camera available that can see heat through walls and ceilings and pinpoint fire inside. But it lies unused in the back of a fire truck outside. And there outside, other firefighters have arrived on the scene now, enough of them focused on extinguishing the fire at Big Ben's Auto Repair Shop, as well as the other buildings that have been victimized by the blaze.

From inside the elevator building, Starvos opens a rear door to the area between the lobby and some fancy corridor. The fire immediately pulls the door from his hands as it sucks in fresh oxygen like a flue opening on a chimney. He can't shut it. Flames billow inside the lobby. "Cara!" he screams.

IIII

Cara has no idea why the fates have put her into this predicament. That she was forced to leave two people back in the lobby; the pole structure was too heavy to lift on her own, and she had heard screams from above. Children's screams.

To her left...is the indoor recreation center, where children scream and cough for dear life; some scream that it hurts; others scream to help; and most others simply cry. Through the open blinds covering the windows, Cara can see that the children range in age from 3 to 10. Possibly even 12. There is one baby, shielded by a woman in her arms, and Cara almost cringes at the sight. A few of the adults — all women — stare at her pleadingly, and all Cara can do is stare back. She has an axe in her hand, and has already chopped the door off its hinges, but the fire is blocking her path. It licks at the ceiling, both in and outside of the room and has enclosed the women and children in a circle, slowly but surely creeping up on them. Cara has considered running through the flame, but it is too intense, too big. And even if she were to do so and remain unharmed, the fire would be even bigger by the time she managed to grab — what, one kid? — and pull him or her back to safety.

For a moment, Cara wonders how this fire started and how it got so out of control. But she banishes these thoughts from her mind quickly. Such thoughts take away from focusing on the matter at hand, and a firefighter must be focused at all times. There are often no found answers to such questions, she knows this from experience, and there is no point in dwelling on it. She doesn't know how many other people are trapped in this building or where to even start to look for them, but there is a matter to her right.

To her right, in a some sort of room she cannot quite identify, a woman has been asking for help for the longest now. Strangely, the woman hasn't, and still doesn't, sound panicked or horrified. It is just a simple, "Help me, dear one. Help me." She'd started speaking when she heard Cara yelling to the women and children. Cara had focused on the woman briefly before hearing the room of tormented children. And now, forced into what seems like the hardest decision she will ever have to make in her life, she turns away from the recreation center, catching one last glimpse of the women pleading after her.

She makes her way to the other room. "Hello?"

"Yes, I'm here," the voice replies back.

"Okay, stand back. We don't have much time. I need to get this door off its hinges."

"I understand," the woman replies again. And Cara takes the axe to the door, quite aware of the desperate eyes boring into her back.

IIII

Inside the room, the woman simply known as Shota looks around the smoky area caused by the flames flickering out from all sides. The fire by the door is not the worst, but it is intense enough that it blocked her attempt to try and escape through it, the handle too hot to the touch.

She is an old woman, gray-haired and wrinkled, but her eyes somehow convey a youthful appearance. Her brown and black clothing looks as though it is merely a combination of cloaks, all wrapped around her as though a shield from the flames. And as the axe starts to chip away at parts of the door, she wonders just how she wound up here. Judging by the fire and voice on the other side, it is one of the realities she saw in her visions before jumping dimensions. She had been trying to avoid this universe, among others, and needed to get back to her destined one... Back...and in time, where her youth awaits her. But maybe it is fate that has landed her here in this moment. True, she didn't see herself in this particular vision, but her visions are not always complete in what they relay. What the visions had relayed... They included this woman on the other side of that door.

IIII

"The fire in the lobby...it's out of control," Starvos radios to Dawson. "It's walking all around us. Fire and smoke has already blocked the doorway."

Twelve minutes have passed since the first report of fire.

Dawson scowls and calls for a team with a 1 1/2-inch-diameter hose to travel deep into the back of the building to begin battling the fire from inside. The fire in front of him grows, but he will do what he must, and calls in a second team with a larger, 2 1/2-inch-diameter hose line. The same for the back of the building. Among the first teams in the building are the men from Ladder 5. They rush into the front to help Starvos and his men and start spraying water on the spreading blaze.

Engines 16 and 19 arrive, and Engine 16 carries two more veterans, and a captain. On Engine 19: Another captain, and an engineer. The crews from Engines 16 and 19 join the men at the back of the building. Smoke grows thicker inside the building, but everything seems under control to Dawson, as well as to Starvos.

Two minutes later, Fire Chief Kenneth L. Gates pulls into the parking lot outside and grabs his gear from the back of his vehicle. "Where's Cara?!" he yells. He'd been having lunch with his daughter when the call came in, as his main men, and main woman Cara, felt he needed a little alone time with the daughter he hasn't seen in two years. He'd objected at first, not wanting to leave the station. And now he knows it was surely a grave mistake. He's middle-aged and gray-haired, with a good build to his body — other than the somewhat extended gut — and has a "bit of country" to his voice. He also wastes no time to looking for Cara among all the men in gray and yellow. "Where is she?!" he yells again.

"Gone inside, sir," Cara's friend Adam approaches. "As is typical."

"Goddamnit." Gates barks commands into the radio — redeploying trucks, monitoring water supplies, coordinating incoming aid and checking the status of other station houses around the city. Many of these tasks should be farmed out to other commanders on the scene so the chief can focus on the larger goal. Gates has no intention of doing this, however. He's already pissed that Cara is again not playing by the rules. If it's anyone who can get away with not playing by the rules, it's him.

Off-duty firefighters show up as the fire grows. Some have so little bodily protection, only in casual clothing, that it's a wonder why they're there at all. One off-duty firefighter feels lucky, for he has his gear stashed in his car as he drives for the fire destination, eager to arrive and battle on the scene. Once there, he is approved past the police barricade after providing identification. Before he can get inside the building, however, another firefighter urges him to connect a hose to a ladder truck that needs water.

Demands for more water are rampant, here and there on the radios. Firefighters are without sufficient water to get the fire under control, and cars are trampling over the hoses.

Inside the building, the fire grows in intensity, eating up oxygen. Heat builds in the steel truss system above the firefighters' heads. At Starvos's order, some are looking for Cara; they must find Cara.

IIII

It is four minutes later. The door Cara chopped away at was harder to fall than others, but eventually did, and Cara was greeted by Shota smiling up at her. As the woman is shorter than herself, and somewhat hunched over, Cara had almost felt the need to cradle her. They'd been able to jump through the fire in front of the doorway, as Cara had covered the woman and herself well enough with material especially made for such instances. But the path Cara had come through was now blocked, and they'd needed to hurry back to the room.

The room being right across from the burning flesh of the innocent, Cara had tried her best to block out the agonized screams, and had advised Shota to do the same.

And now they are making use of Cara's rope. Luckily, the room had a window. And Cara had reacted quickly, tying the rope to a solid drawer, then securing it around herself and Shota and moving out the window.

The rope is long enough to ensure their destined descent, but the way down is not easy as they must maneuver past fire whipping out, especially from close-by windows.

"It's Cara Mason!" yells one bystander, a victim of the fire, as he and others watch her move down the rope with an elderly woman tightly within her grasp.

Upon calls for more water, more crews speed to the scene, including the crew of Engine 6. Some tackle the surrounding fires with hoses, especially Big Ben's Auto Repair Shop. A few blocks from the elevator building, five firefighters from a neighboring fire department leave lunch when one receives a call from a friend about the blaze. They plan to join the scene to see if there is anything they can do.

Once Cara is helped to the ground by fellow fighters, she is brutally scolded by Chief Gates.

Other firefighters try to pull Shota away to the waiting paramedics, but the woman will not budge before talking with Cara. "Let me properly thank the woman who saved my life first," she states. Two firefighters look to Gates as though for orders, and he nods his approval to let the elderly woman have her say.

"Alone," says Shota, her almond eyes sending penetrating death glares the men's way. As Gates has already moved back to barking orders, and more pressing matters, the two firefighters are left looking to Cara.

"I'll get her checked out," Cara assures, looking toward the burning building. "You two are needed. Go," her eyes relay the sense of urgency and the men agree before their abrupt departure.

Cara's eyes are still focused on that building — that fire — and she wants nothing more than to get over there this very second...to kill it. But the old woman swiftly turns her around so that they face each other. "Listen to me, child," she speaks with a rough cough, and looks Cara in the eyes. "You have shown great courage today, saving me from certain death... And for that, I am thankful."

As Shota did not have enough power to jump through dimensions again in that moment, she means this. She would have died back there in that fire, and quite possibly have upset the balance of certain universes even further than she already has. "This is also why I must repay you," she continues.

"That won't be necessary," Cara becomes impatient, looking back toward the fire and the various men battling it.

"No, you must listen!" Shota turns the woman back to her. She doesn't know if her presence is part of this young modern-day Mord-Sith's demise, but she must try. Try to warn her. To save her. "There are other universes, dimensions, not just this one... Other Caras, all sharing one soul... And the Cara of this world — you — do not have long."

"Lady, I -"

"I said listen!" Shota starts to cough even more roughly, choking on her still smoke-filled lungs. Cara attempts to pat her on the back, but her hand is slapped away. "I have seen what will lead to your downfall, what has already caused it as we speak. But there is a way around it, my dear." Cara furrows her eyebrows together, and Shota sees the opening..." You must love, Cara Mason... Love."

Cara looks alarmed by the utterance of her name, but Shota smiles knowingly. "Most people here know who you are. You think I would not?"

"I..." Cara's attention is again called toward the flames. "I need to..."

"You need to help... I know." Shota takes Cara's hands into her own, gaining the blond's attention once more. "Just as I need to help you with these next lines." Shota pauses, and Cara seemingly braces herself, though she doesn't exactly know why. What she does know is that this old woman is senile.

"There is a spell," Shota begins, "that will allow love to save you, I cast it now. But it must be up to you and only you to choose how. Who you choose and do not choose will be a vital piece, after the time in which three strangers show up to beg you 'please.' One will be your true love, and the others stand-in lies, so make sure to choose wisely if you hope to spare your life." Shota's grip tightens, and her eyes convey a sense of hopelessness. "Choose once, not twice, or even attempt at thrice, for making the right choice will ensure escape of the spoken issued demise."

Her words final, Shota drops Cara's hands, breaking into terrible coughs; they wrack her body and cause her to double over. Hearing this, nearby firemen look to the old woman. And just as concerned, Cara exchanges a look with them that says "Get her out of here."

The men hurriedly approach. "She's not making any sense," Cara relays, "Possibly delirious."

"I'm not..." Shota tries to speak, and Cara figures the woman either breathed in too much smoke beforehand or is simply "very old."

"We've got her," the other men state and pull Shota off to waiting paramedics to be checked out.

Cara immediately moves over to her friend, Adam, who is busy pulling an extra hose. "Where's Starvos?"

Cara and Starvos often make a good team, at work and in bed, and she needs the most accurate description of what is going on inside. Especially with Chief Gates angry with her.

"He's inside," Adam replies, and Cara's face falls. "Partly went in there after you... Partly to save victims."

Cara watches the burning building in barely restrained horror.

The firefighters from a few blocks down had already arrived two minutes ago, having pulled up to the side near the loading dock, where Brooklyn firefighters still struggle to contain the fire. Gates tells them to move to the back of the building, where the fire has gotten worse, and battle it from there. They are not his men, but they are willing to put their lives on the line, and Gates knows his team needs all the help they can get. One of the men radios their station for more help.

IIII

Inside the building, one of the residents crawls very low and gasps for air as black smoke curls above her. Flames block the only door to the small exercise room where she had been working out alone when the fire broke out. She's trapped, and no one knows she's there. She can hear the tortured screams of others, though unsure of where, and her throat burns from the heat. She frantically stabs at the buttons on her cell phone, trying to dial 911. The metal of the area makes it difficult for her phone to pick up a signal.

But the woman's call finally goes through. Twenty-two minutes have passed since the first report of fire. "I need help," she cries, "My kids..."

"We'll help you, okay?" the dispatcher assures. "Hang on," he coaches. "Can you use something to help alert where you are?"

The woman uses the end of a chair to pound against the wall, hoping that her rescuers hear her. The sound, however, is faint, distant amid the sirens and chaos outside.

"Keep doing what you're doing," the dispatcher encourages. "You will be rescued."

Two firefighters are informed of the woman's predicament from a police officer and hurry toward the back of the building, hoping it will help them get there sooner and easier, based on her location. On their way, they come across a third firefighter, who has also heard the call and races to help. Fast, and with axes ready, the men stand in the building chopping at an area which is said to lead to the room. The fire isn't as intense at this area, and, since the woman's location is a bottom level room, and thus they are optimistic. With much frustration, faint clanking comes from behind a piece of the rippled metal wall where the men furiously hammer for their lives. The men slam their axes into the metal siding and carve out a small, jagged hole. The woman, coughing and gagging, appears through a cloud of black smoke and wriggles through the small opening. The firemen yank her from the hole and whisk her to paramedics waiting in front of the building.

IIII

For the men inside the building, the air in their tanks is running dangerously low. The entrance is blocked with flames again, the fire having somehow worked its away around them as they battled what was before them. Twenty-seven minutes have passed since the initial report of fire, the atmosphere in the building having deteriorated rapidly. Dense smoke roils through the lobby, blotting out light. The air becomes toxic, the heat ferociously intense. All the men had to do was back out the door moments earlier, but this is what firefighters do — give their lives so that others may survive — risk everything so that others may live.

Encouragingly, more than a dozen firefighters wave hands through the coal-black smoke inside, and struggle to hold the fire back and keep their bearings in the building's maze-like layout. With any move backward, they hit all sorts of furniture. And while the sun still shines brightly outside, in here it is dark as midnight.

IIII

Cara has tried to go back in, but has been convinced and ordered to work on the outside This is one of those times where Chief Gates will not be reasoned with. "Besides," one firefighter had scornfully said to her, "You've done more than enough."

Now, in this moment, splintered transmissions sputter over the radio. Shouts, moans, incoherent words. And the sound of muffled, heavy breathing breaks in. Air hisses as a voice shouts from behind a face mask: " I... The connection with the hose has been lost!"

That's bad news, firefighters know. Trained to follow their hoses to safety if they become disoriented in a fire, it is like a trail of bread leading them back to their safehaven. Back home.

Soon, there is a call every firefighter dreads coming in over the radio. "Mayday!" a voice cries out from inside.

Then Starvos radios his dying wish to Chief Gates: "Cara... Tell her I love her. She made it out, I know it. She always does."

Cara stands beside the chief and has heard the message. "Starvos..." Emotion is threatening to spill from her lips, from her eyes, from her very being, as she watches the building burn to rubble.

Gates yells for everyone to stay off the radio, his only link to the men fighting the fire. As he does, a voice from inside the building cuts in, reciting the end of a prayer: "In Jesus's name, amen."

Gates knows that on a large fire scene, commanders are taught to carry out periodic radio checks on their men to determine their location, but now twenty-eight minutes into the fire, no one is sure how many firefighters remain inside the building or, with the exception of Starvos, who they are. Gates screams into the radio to his commanders: "The men... Are they all out at your locations?"

Battalion Chief Dawson, replies, "No sir. Men are still in there."

Loud and commanding, Gates shouts again for radio silence. "Count your own men. Make sure they're all there."

Inside, one of the fire fighters spins through the smoke and around the furniture looking for a way out. He is lost, has gotten separated from the others. And not willing to give up any time soon, he catches sight of another firefighter's flashing emergency beacon and follows the light toward the front of the lobby. He pounds the inside of a window from a room behind them.

A dispatcher radios Gates, saying that the engineer of Ladder 5's emergency button has been activated. Alarm devices attached to the firefighters' air packs ring through the darkness inside the building, which indicates they are in danger. The alarms are intricately designed to go off automatically if a firefighter goes down for 24 seconds or longer.

Cara joins some other men trying to chop a large hole in the side of the building to let out smoke and create a pathway in for water. She's hoping they can get to Starvos as well, and plants her axe in the siding again and again, adrenalin surging through her system.

At the front of the building, smoke rises and has the appearance of thick, black cotton candy, a sign that the lobby is becoming superheated and could spontaneously ignite. Firefighters will not give up, and should not give up, and thus, with available water, have a swollen hose line snake through the front door. One fighter grabs hold of the line and follows it into the building, while another grips his jacket with one hand and swipes the air with the other, searching for some sign of the fallen. They can see only a foot beyond their faces. About 20 yards in, they come upon a FDNY firefighter; he is on his knees crying. One man pulls the firefighter to his feet, then proceeds to follow the hose line like the others, the heat enveloping them all.

Outside the building, Gates keeps calling on his radio for the men who just entered.

Only silence.

Gates screams into his radio: "Out! Everyone out of the building!"

Around back, a captain from another fire station has also ordered his men from the building. He watches the fire in awe. The fire is so hot the metal siding literally glows red, translucent.

Soon, the lobby and its contents explode into flames. Closing in on the front door that has been cleared with water again, the men who had been following the hose back out steal a backward glance as sprinkles of fire leap from one couch to the next in succession. Pow! Pow! Pow! A tidal wave of flame roars through the room and belches from the front windows. The men are able to stumble from the building into the parking lot, steam floating from their singed gear as they look around. The firefighter they'd found on his knees and were trying to save is gone, lost somewhere in the inferno.

"Starvos?" Cara's face lights up with hope at the men escaping the building, but there is no Starvos with them.

"I said exit that damn building!" Gates shouts again. Firefighters keep arriving, parking wherever they can. They scurry about, desperately using whatever hose they can get their hands on to spray water on the fire, and, as they do, some move forward and try to hold back flames with small, red hoses normally reserved for tiny trash fires. Other firefighters wander dangerously close to the flames with no helmets, air packs, or protective gear. Off-duty men in casual clothing cart hoses. Voices mingle and blend together over the radio, and yet still the calls come for more water pressure.

Big Ben's Auto Repair Shop and the previous surrounding fires are under control, but not this one. Not the one at the 331 elevator building.

One firefighter is beyond furious, tired, and many other things: "It's these people - the cars - trampling over the water supply. It's killing our men."

Firefighters are helpless as fire crackles from the building. But no one gives up, and Cara helps in what way she can. The men inside, including Adam who now helps beside her, are the only family she has. They are her brothers even.

One chief from another station makes one last attempt to charge the flames and get inside to save these men, but he reels back as his hands burn. And he stumbles into the parking lot, scowling and hurling his helmet at the building in frustration. "Why were so many men in there in the first goddamn place? And an Assistant Chief of all people?"

Cara cannot help but feel that all eyes are on her when that question is asked, and indeed she sees that some have directed their gaze her way. A few of her fellow firemen don't even attempt to hide the venom in their eyes. And victims of the blaze are still close by, though protected, screaming for their babies, their children, their loved ones; a good number asking why Cara couldn't save them, why she only came away with one person. An elderly person at that.

Cara looks behind her, and is alarmed to see Shota sitting in the back of an ambulance, eyeing her carefully and seemingly mouthing something. _What is she still doing here?_ Cara wonders, turning away. The woman's words from earlier, however, meet her once more: _"I have seen what will lead to your downfall, what has already caused it as we speak. But there is a way around it.. it must be up to you and only you to choose how. Choose once, not twice, or even attempt at thrice, for making the right choice will ensure escape of the spoken issued demise_." She turns back, but the elderly woman is now gone.

It is too late for the firefighters inside, the steel beams in the roof twisting and sagging and then and collapsing in a crush of smoke and flames. And the list of the missing men slowly takes shape. One name. Then three. Six names. Then nine. And finally...fourteen in all.

Forty-one minutes have passed since the first call. Now 4:11 pm. And Cara suddenly wishes she was among the names on that list.

IIII

It's night — seven, maybe eight — and Cara strolls into her down-town home, closing the door behind her with a lost look in her eyes. She tosses her dirty and ruined firefighter jacket on the coat rack, and immediately heads for the fridge. It's a typical home. A nice home, and she has not had to struggle to hold on to this one — rent, etc. — as she has had to do with other homes in the past. But this home, like all the others, is missing something. Warmth and all the good stuff that makes a home a home.

Cara grabs a beer from the fridge, immediately popping it open and gulping it back. After a good swig, she moves into the living room, and just stands there, wondering how she wound up like this — alone, and with her only joy predicated on extinguishing fires. A job where she is forced to hear the rantings of old people who have clearly lost their minds. Watch people die — friends, acquaintances... Children.

She is used to seeing people dying, no doubt, and has long since schooled any emotions of grief, sorrow, guilt...regret. But she feels those things this day... The day Starvos and other men, and women and children, have lost their lives. And she doesn't even want to think about turning on the news, for aggravation of what they may say.

The visions of the children from earlier in the day, their screams, run rampant through her mind. She's experienced similar images before, but never a room full of children. A room with mothers clinging to those children to protect them from both the emotional and physical pain, as well as the reality of death. This brings Cara back to her own childhood, how her parents had often tried to protect her with that same fierce look in their eyes. That is...until they'd shunned her once discovering her attraction to women. They'd kicked her out at age 16, and Cara was surprised it had taken them that long to find out. "Damn idiots," she mumbles under her breath.

Cara had only managed until 18 because of school friend Adam, who had convinced his parents to take her in. Harboring a minor might have gotten them in trouble if anyone had discovered her homeless state, but the same could be said for kicking a minor out when you're their parent/and or legal guardian, and Cara was not about to snitch on her family; if they wanted her gone, she was gone, and that was that.

Besides...even at Adam's, she had still mostly been alone, staying and leaving every few days, sometimes a week or two, because she "didn't want to impose." She had other places to stay, even if shelters. But Adam's parents had always welcomed her back into their home with open arms.

Cara takes another swig of her beer, raking her fingers through her ash and debris-covered hair. Her parents probably would have liked Starvos. Not only was he decent, smart, good-looking and well-educated, but he was also male. A male Cara figures she could have grown to love. "Love," she spits bitterly, and moves toward the wide window in the living room, which, while not matching its width, almost matches its length from top to bottom; this allows for a great view of the outside. Cara looks up at the stars there, thinking of the elderly woman's words: _Choose once, not twice, or even attempt at thrice, for making the right choice will ensure escape of the spoken issued demise_."

Cara grins painfully. "Senile old woman." She closes her blinds, turns off the lights and heads for the shower upstairs. Like every other thing eating away at her in the moment, she will bury this too.

Or at least try.

IIII

Cara awakes in the morning to a sound of the alarm clock by her bed. Not that she needs one; she's never needed one; never been a deep sleeper, or even one to sleep for long hours of the day. But she figured the nightmarish day of yesterday would've likely put her into a coma-induced reality for long enough.

She turns over, sitting up in the bed and just looks around. She always does this — just looks around, as if she's never seen this stuff before. The huge LBGT poster, decorated with rainbow colors to her left, along with the various sports ribbons, pendants, and trophies she accumulated from the time of first grade to high school. The dresser which the trophies rest on top of, full of jeans, slacks, T-shirts, and tanks tops. Not to mention her boxers and perfume. Even men's cologne for the days she feels a little androgynous. The closet is full of all sorts of clothing she hardly ever wears, such as dresses and skirts, but she does wear them on occasion.

Her floor is littered with a few sports materials as well, but other than that... it is fairly clean.

Cara looks at all this stuff, in the same way every day, as though it doesn't belong to her. As though this life is not hers. As though there is another her imposing this existence.

A line from the elderly woman's words from yesterday run through Cara's mind: "_There are other universes, dimensions, not just this one... Other Caras, all sharing one soul... And the Cara of this world _—_ you _—_ do not have long_."

Cara sighs, getting up to grab a pair of jeans and T-shirt as she makes her way out the door. Today is going to be another long day.

IIII

As Cara descends the stairs, she hears the phone ringing by the stairway. She is hardly pressed to answer it once she finally reaches the stand; after all, anyone important calling her has her cell number. And other than that, it's just people trying to sell her something. That, or "the bill people." But Cara groans, deciding to answer the phone anyway. "Yeah?" she says, biting on her bottom lip before throwing her jeans and shirt over her other shoulder.

It's Fire Chief Gates.

"Sir?" Cara's brows furrow together.

There is a pause.

"What do you mean you want me to take off for a few days?"

Another pause, and Cara's frown increases with every word.

"Sir! I know you think me more delicate than the others because I'm a woman, but... " Another pause, and Cara grinds her teeth... "Television?... You know I hardly watch it... And I can only imagine what those reporters are -" Cara nods. "Yes, I agree, it's best not to look at it. But, sir - about coming in to work today."

The doorbell rings and Cara turns to the front door with a scowl, Gates's ramblings still going loud in her ear. "That's an order?... You can't order me to just stay home, sir."Cara laughs, but it is an incredulous one. "You'll seriously punish me?"

Another pause, and Cara's face falls.

"Starvos..." She takes in a deep breath. "Yes, but..."

The chief hangs up, nothing but the dial tone left sounding in the air.

Cara slowly puts the phone on the hook. "...But I'm okay. I really am," she'd wanted to say.

The doorbell rings again.

Cara releases another deep sigh.

Frowning something fierce, she quickly regains her composure and heads for the door. "What?" she yells, yanking it open to find a tall, good-looking man with light brown hair standing in her doorway. He's dressed in a light blue shirt, goofy-looking shorts and the tackiest looking foot-wear known to man — aka, sandals with socks.

He is also quick to turn away after spotting Cara in her bra and boxers. "S-Sorry," he says, turned to the side and looking to the grass with a deep blush to his cheeks.

"You can look. I don't mind," grins Cara, starting to dress to spare the man further embarrassment.

"Ah, no." He turns to her fully, hands waving, all while keeping his eyes diverted. "A gentlemen never looks."

"Never?" Cara arches a brow, a curve marking her lips as she pulls on her jeans. Her top is already on. "What are you doing on my doorstep?"

"I..." the man starts.

"You can look now." Cara appears bored.

The man smiles nervously, looking up with his most apologetic face. "Leo," he holds out a hand for acceptance.

"I didn't ask for your name." Cara leans against the door, folding her arms. "I asked, 'What are you doing on my doorstep'?"

Leo points over his shoulder. "It's my car... ... Flat tire." He smiles wide, as though getting a flat tire is the best thing that could have happened to him. "Basically...I need to use a phone."

A sharp pain suddenly hits Cara, making her wobbly in the knees, the vision of a woman in red, skin-tight leather...carrying some kind of rods...flashes through her mind. The woman looks like her.

"What the f**k was that?" Cara places a hand to her head, confused.

"What?" asks Leo.

Cara looks to him as if really seeing him.

Leo frowns. "You okay?"

A line from the elderly woman echoes in her ear: "_Other Caras, all sharing one soul..._"

"It's nothing," Cara says, shaking her head. She tries to rid these feelings, and moves a little past Leo. "A flat tire, you say?" She spots his car pulled up on the sidewalk in her front yard. "Then let's see what we can do about that."

"What?" Leo's eyebrows raise.

Cara grins. "That's right, guy with the silly shorts. You've just found yourself a mechanic."

Leo assesses his shorts while Cara moves toward the door. "C'omn. I've a spare someone in here."

IIII

It doesn't take long for Cara to change the tire, and before the two know it, they are sitting on the sidewalk, laughing and conversing.

"I didn't know a girl could change a tire like that. You put me to shame... Like really."

"Well, there's your mistake, Leo Dane..." Cara drawls out the name. "Basing your opinions on little girls..." She stares him deep in the eyes. "I am a woman."

Leo's eyes glide over Cara's form. "That you are."

"Careful." Cara points a finger.

"Why careful?" Leo leans in with a flower in his hand.

"Because..." Cara looks him over. "And I thought I told you to get rid of that thing. You're lucky Ms. Chilling didn't see you pick it."

"You really don't like it?" Leo examines the plant.

"I really don't," Cara stands, dusting off her hands. "Look, your car's ready to go. And I really don't know you, so -"

"- Let me take you out to breakfast. Right now. As...as repayment for helping me... I know this great waffle house close by."

Cara looks to the grass.

"I'll let you hold a knife to my throat the whole way there... You know, what you said about me possibly being a serial killer? A tacky shorts-wearing serial killer?"

Cara laughs.

There is a pause, and then she shrugs. "Oh why not. I don't have anything better to do."

IIII

Cara and Leo discuss various topics, mostly staying on the generic and away from the personal. But at some point, mention of the big fire that took place at the 331 elevator building comes up.

"I thought I recognized you. You're like a big celebrity here in Brooklyn."

"I don't want to talk about it," states Cara, taking a bite into her inadequately-drenched waffles. She prefers pancakes, but, hell, hunger doesn't allow for pickiness. "So what do you do?" she stuffs her mouth with eggs.

Leo thinks this is his kind of woman — one that's not afraid to eat.

"I'm pre-med."

"So you're looking to be a doctor? ... How old are you again?"

"25," Leo smiles, "cutting into his sausage. "I'm a little late in making this career choice, I know."

"Hey, at least you know what you want to do," Cara waves her fork. "Some people waste their whole lives never knowing."

They nod their agreement, all awkward smiles and shrugs.

And then the silence envelops them. Silence...save the voices of customers and cooks busying themselves in the kitchen.

Cara hates silence.

"You wanna f**k?" she asks.

The sausage in Leo's mouth drops to his plate, eyes wide.

"Well, do you?" Cara smirks.

IIII

Cara and Leo don't end up f**king, as Leo had gone on and on about respecting women...about respecting Cara...even though they'd just met. He did, however, assure her that he's open to f**king one day.

Just in less crude words.

IIII

The next morning, Cara is determined not to spend another day being bored. After breakfast with Leo, she'd spent the whole day cleaning. Yeah, that's right — cleaning. And cleaning is something Cara Mason simply does not do. She's never had to play housemade. And why do that, when she can (and does) call the house-cleaners?

But...seeing as she didn't, and still doesn't, have a job to go to, and seeing as she agreed that watching television, the news in particular, would/will do her no good, that had left cleaning. The house really needed it, though, and it wasn't like she was up for going out. She barely goes out anyway. Not unless to work, a fast food joint, or a night club — preferably a gay one. It's also better not to go out alone. And other than Adam and a few others, she has no one.

Besides...they'd been busy.

Cara descends the stairs in her bra and boxers, clothes thrown over her shoulder as before. She likes men. She really does. Likes them a lot. But she loves women. Getting ass hadn't truly been on her mind when she'd made Leo the offer; it's just that Cara has always found sex to be a good cure for boredom.

She is thinking about heading down to the station and demanding that the chief put her back to work, just as the doorbell rings. Already by the damn thing, she yanks it open with a scowl."What?"she barks.

She is stopped cold of any further unpleasantries.

On the other side of the door stands a very attractive woman with dirty blond hair. Her eyes are blue and lips bright red. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she has on the tightest shirt, as well as shortest shorts, Cara has ever seen.

Cara much prefers this look to Leo's tacky attire.

"You're Cara Mason," the woman says.

"I..." Cara seems at a loss for words, which is strange because she's never at a loss for words.

"And I see the tales of your excellent physique are true," the blonde's eyes rake over Cara's form.

Cara suddenly feels undressed...exposed...naked.

Again, uncharacteristic of her. "Just..." she blushes. "Let me get dressed real quick, and I'll be right with you."

Cara closes the door just enough to stand behind it and get dressed. As she does, the blonde on the other side tries to stifle giggles.

"What's your name?" Cara asks, eager to meet the other woman face to face once more.

"What does it matter, since I'm a stranger?"

"It matters because you're on my doorstep," replies Cara.

"Well, that's only because I've got a flat fire... If you would be so kind as to allow me to use your phone, I'd be out of your hair in an instant."

A sharp pain suddenly hits Cara, making her wobbly in the knees, the vision of a woman in red, skin-tight leather...carrying some kind of rods...flashes through her mind. The woman looks like her.

A line from the elderly woman echoes in her ear: "..._after the time in which three strangers show up to beg you 'please_.'"

Cara shakes her head. "It can't be," she mutters under her breath. _Two strangers... Asking for help? The exact same kind of help?_ "What in the hell?" _But, wait... It's only two so far. You don't really believe that old woman, do you?... Even if she's psychic, it doesn't mean what she said - those words about death and true love and all that sh*t - should be taken seriously... Seriously, Cara, get a hold of yourself. It's goddamn insane._

"Um, hello?" the voice on the other side questions.

Cara almost slaps a hand against her head. "Right. Sorry about that." She pulls the door open to reveal her now dressed state.

"I think I prefer you the other way," the woman grins.

Cara just stares...quite blankly.

"Kidding," the woman extends her hand. "I'm Dahlia."

Cara reluctantly accepts the exchange, shaking the blonde's hand slowly, savoring the contact. "I would say 'I'm Cara,' but you've demonstrated quite clearly that you're already familiar with me."

"I am," Dahlia smiles, placing her hands in her pockets once the lingering handshake is over.

"No, you're not," Cara retorts. "If you were, then that would include you in my bed." Cara's eyes twinkle with mischief. And she's glad that she's gotten over whatever shyness she'd initially had in front of this Dahlia woman. If the woman is going to so openly flirt with her, then she is most definitely going to flirt back.

Dahlia watches Cara for a moment, as if contemplating something, a bit of amusement playing on her face.

"But since you claim to know of me," Cara continues, "Don't bring up the 331 elevator building fire, okay? Because I really don't -"

"- I understand," Dahlia cuts her off.

Cara nods at this. At least the woman seems sincere in that regard. She looks past Dahlia, to the car parked on the sidewalk of her front yard. "A flat tire?" She looks back to Dahlia. "Don't you people ever have cell phones?" _Leo had apparently left his behind. _

"You people?" questions Dahlia.

"A guy was in the same predicament as you just yesterday. Here on my doorstep."

"You're kidding," Dahlia's eyebrows raise.

"Nope,"

"Well, I...I live right down the street."

"Then the question begs," Cara folds her arms across her chest, "why are you at my door? Don't you have a phone of your own? I see you didn't even deny having a cell."

Dahlia raises her hands midway into the air. "Okay, you caught me. I just wanted to meet the legendary Cara Mason." She smiles sheepishly. "I didn't even know you lived on this street until I spotted you the other day just lounging in your front yard. I think with that guy you mentioned. And, really, seeing you in the news made me -" Dahlia feels herself going into forbidden territory and stops.

Cara unfolds her arms, and moves close to the woman, pinning her with her most seductive stare. "Why, Dahlia...if you wanted to meet me, all you had to do was show up... Without the pretenses." She turns to enter through her doorway and then looks over her shoulder at the woman. "Are you coming or not?"

"Coming where?"

"If you're hoping I'll say 'between my legs'...relax, Dahlia. I only mean to retrieve a spare tire."

Dahlia blushes something fierce, and Cara moves into the house with a laugh. Serves the woman right. You don't flirt with "Cara f**king Mason"...without getting burn marks.

IIII

Cara finishes fixing up Dahlia's car, and, using the rag to wipe down her hands, heads back toward the front door of her house.

Though flirting with the blonde has been fun, Cara figures she is straight (hetero), or at least bi-curious, as are the majority of beautiful women Cara has taken an interest in.

"Come to my house?... For breakfast?"

Cara stops in her tracks and turns to look back at the woman. "Did you just..." _...Just like Leo...except for the "my house" bit._

"I did," Dahlia grins.

IIII

Cara has breakfast with Dahlia, and they discuss different things than she did with Leo, such as hobbies, gay life, political beliefs.

Dahlia's gay, and though Cara's surprised, she certainly isn't shocked. Not with the flirting they'd been doing.

As for political beliefs, Cara's generally neutral, neither republic or democratic. Dahlia's democratic, but Cara is not surprised there.

It turns out Dahlia is 22, and is a ballet instructor. While Cara feels that 22 is a little young for such a profession, she also wonders just how flexible Dahlia is.

Cara doesn't ask if Dahlia would like to f**k... But she does get the blonde's number before she leaves.

IIII

The following morning, Cara doesn't even try to pretend to be optimistic about her day being a good one as she descends the stairs. She has no idea how people live like this — staying home all day, nothing productive to do except clean. And as the house is already spotless, disregarding the items still splayed out on her bedroom floor, she is feeling even more out of her element. She has always kept busy, doesn't like to relax, doesn't like to think there is nothing more that needs to be done. That her life makes no difference.

If she had kids to take care of, like many housewives, then that would be another story. But as it stands, she's alone. With nothing but the television and computer to choose from when it comes to "letting loose," and she doesn't have a radio...doesn't particularly listen to music.

Unlike working people who would kill to be relieved of their duties for a few days, Cara finds this to be a death sentence.

So when the doorbell rings this time, Cara is no uncertain terms...pissed off.

She heads to the door with a scowl, disbelieving that it could actually be the third stranger — the third stranger the old woman spoke of.

Cara opens the door to find a stunning brunette standing in her doorway. The woman's eyes roam over her half-dressed form for longer than they need to. But that is nothing new to Cara. While in only her bra and boxers, she always receives that gaze. She always receives "that gaze" regardless.

The brunette is tall, pale-skinned...and sporting an alarming pair of blue eyes. Those eyes, they say something that Cara cannot quite grasp. They're alluring, sure, and quite vulnerable, in the moment at least, but they are also dangerous...and something else altogether.

The woman also has a great rack, Cara notices — the kind of breasts a person could bounce a coin off of. And her tight, gray and white top is all too eager to show this off, assisted by an open, gray blazer, before trailing down into her matching gray slacks. The woman doesn't have on high heels, but those dressy black shoes combined with the rest of her attire scream "lawyer." And Cara hates lawyers. She also hates freckled-faced people, for reasons traced back to her childhood. During those years, Cara had learned that freckled-face people are nothing but trouble — dishonest, vile, annoying creatures. And if the few freckles gracing the face of this woman before her are any indication, she is the same as the others.

The brunette is pretty, yes. Stunning, as first observed. But Cara is not impressed. Not impressed in the least. Not by those perfect breasts, that perfect hair, the perfect shape of the female form. No. Cara is not impressed. Not impressed at all.

The brunette is simply not her type.

"I..." the brunette starts.

"...Your car broke down and you need to use a phone," Cara finishes for her. "Yeah, yeah."

"How did..." the brunette looks perplexed.

A sharp pain suddenly hits Cara, making her wobbly in the knees, the vision of a woman in red, skin-tight leather...carrying some kind of rods...flashes through her mind. The woman looks like her.

Shaking her head, Cara moves away from the door, turning her back on the woman and heading for the base of her stairs. "The house phone is right there," she points to the stand by the staircase. "Hurry up and do what you gotta do. I can't stand to look at freckled-faced people for more than a minute."

"Excuse me?" States the brunette, frowning in the doorway, a hand to her chest as though she's been stabbed. In all her life, she has never been talked to this way before, and certainly not by a stranger, someone she just met. She wonders just what type of hell hole she has found herself in. "All I wish is to use the phone. If you didn't want me to, all you had to do was turn me away. Not become rude." She finally enters and moves toward the object, looking up at the blonde. "And do you just invite anyone into your home?"

"Unimportant people don't matter."

"You... I've done nothing to you!" the brunette angrily grits her teeth. "Who are you to feel you are so much better than me? To address me in such a way?"

Cara pauses halfway on the staircase, to peer down at this woman who dare question her. "I am Cara Mason, the best female firefighter in all of New York. And don't you ever forget it."

Cara continues her ascent upstairs.

"I won't," the brunette says with a sneer, then picks up the phone.

IIII

Cara is halfway asleep in her room when she hears a loud scuffling noise behind her. Turning over on her back, she sees the dark-haired woman from earlier tripping over a bat and then immediately straightening up.

Cara sits up with a scowl, "What in the f**k are you doing in my room?"

"I..." the brunette, for her part, looks apologetic for her actions, straightening out her clothing before settling her gaze on Cara's. "I don't have anyone to come and pick me up and -"

"- and so you thought it was a good idea to enter a stranger's bedroom without warning?" Cara wonders how many rooms this woman had mosied on into before finding this one.

"You didn't seem to mind people roaming your place earlier," the brunette's eyes drift toward her right, to all the sports trophies lining the wide dresser, and the big LGBT poster behind them. "You're...gay?" She turns back to Cara.

"Mostly," Cara shrugs. "And what of it?"

"So am I," the brunette nods.

"Want a cookie?" Cara rolls her eyes.

But though Cara does this, she wonders what are the odds that two women who are gay or otherwise bi would show up on her doorstep. Of course...she also wonders what are the odds that three people, man or woman, would show up in successive order due to the same circumstances and needing the same assistance. She hears Shota's words ring in her ears again: "_Who you choose and do not choose will be a vital piece, after the time in which three strangers show up to beg you 'please'." _

Cara frowns, realizing by now that shaking her head does nothing to rid that voice.

The brunette moves toward the poster and other objects as though in awe.

Cara emerges from her bed with a growl, walking to the brunette to cease her odd petting of the trophies. "Stop that."

"You've played sports," states the brunette.

"You're very observant," retorts Cara. She stands before the window next to the dresser. And as she grabs the brunette's hand, the other woman seems to marvel at how the sunlight plays over her face.

"What color are your eyes?" asks the brunette.

"Sea-green. Sometimes they appear blue. Or gray. That is, with the right light." Cara has no real idea why she's even saying this. This entire exchange is surreal.

"I see," states the raven-haired beauty, brushing her thumb along Cara's cheek.

As if burned, Cara quickly steps back, putting a respectable distance between them. "Pretty touchy-feely there," she watches the other woman with curiosity.

The brunette immediately blushes. "Sorry, I..."

"What's your name?"

"Kahlan."

"Well, Kahlan..."Cara moves over by her bed, picking up a blue pair of jeans and top lying near the end. "You couldn't just call a cab?"

Kahlan tries her best to look dignified. "Ever since I was a child, I've hated them." She looks to the floor under the scrutiny. "Long story."

Cara starts to pull on the jeans, and Kahlan turns her head, thinking how marvelous the blond's legs are.

"You've got a flat tire, right?" Cara hurries into a tight, sleeveless T-shirt, and slips into some tennis shoes.

"How did you -"

"Let's go then," states Cara, moving toward the door. "As I'm not driving you anywhere, not spending any amount of time alone with you in a car, that leaves changing your tire so that you can get the hell off my property." She exits with a huff.

Kahlan stands there watching for a moment. And when she finally exits after the blonde, she is now certain she has landed in some special form of hell.

IIII

Kahlan is mesmerized by the sweat dripping from Cara's arms as the blond uses the lug wrench to replace the lug nuts on the bolts and tighten them, but not too tight...just enough to hold the tire in place before she lowers the car. That sweat, those wonderfully well-defined arms, remind Kahlan of the rain that dripped from a statue years ago. The brunette had been in France, thinking of becoming a photographer. There, she stood in the rain for a whole hour just to get the right set of shots of some statue. That statue, of what could only be described as an Adonis, had captivated her, much the same way this Cara woman is doing now. Kahlan has never known a woman to be so good with her hands. Not unless it encompassed cooking or some other "womanly duties."

Kahlan suddenly smirks. She knows what this is, has heard about it — these so-called butch women. Gay women who pretty much take on the role of men. With the way Cara acts like a brute, with the way her room is like a sports shrine, and with the way she knows how to change a tire so efficiently, the title must apply to her as well. "You're a butch, aren't you?" asks Kahlan, arching one eyebrow at the woman kneeling before her.

Cara laughs, lowering the car with the jack until the car is again resting on all four tires. "You did not just seriously ask me that," she looks up at Kahlan.

Kahlan shrugs.

Cara tightens the lug nuts, starting with one, then moving to the one opposite it, and so on. "You think I'm butch because I play sports, don't dress in girly things the way I'm sure you do, and because I know how to fix cars?"

"Well, aren't you?"

Cara cannot believe this. The gall of this woman. The sheer ignorance. "Have you even met a butch woman before?" Cara carefully inspects her work area, making sure everything is secure, and then starts putting her tools away.

"I..." Kahlan leans back against the car, looking off into another yard, the way the tree sways in the wind there.

Cara stands, dusting off her hands and then wiping them against the towel. She looks to Kahlan with much distaste. "Your silence tells me all I need to know."

Kahlan's head snaps back around, eyes flashing at Cara. "I've seen enough of them on the Internet, and on dating sites. So I know exactly how your type is."

"Dating sites? Well, somebody's lonely." Cara smirks.

Kahlan frowns.

"Don't worry, lawyer girl. I'm not butch."

"I'm not a lawyer."

"You look like one." Cara looks her over.

Kahlan's mouth drops open.

"See? Doesn't feel very good to be stereotyped, now does it?"

Clarity seems to dawn on Kahlan about what she's just done. "I didn't - Didn't mean -"

"- Oh, and I'm known to wear dresses on occasion," Cara drags the flat tire to rest at the base of her yard, dropping the lug wrench there as well. "And I wear lipstick quite often." She moves back toward the car and scoops up her toolbox. "You should read up on LGBT culture if you're going to be identifying as one of us... I'm done here." Cara starts to walk off.

"But wait!" Kahlan moves off the car, holding up a finger in the air. "I want to thank you."

Cara is almost to the door. "The fact that you want to thank me is thanks enough. Now go."

"At least allow me to take you out for breakfast."

Cara spins around by the door. "Look, I don't like you! Is that so hard to understand? You have freckles, and I hate that about you too. "

Kahlan appears flabbergasted, a mix of shock, as well as hurt, passes over her features.

Cara sees the hurt there, and likes it. She wants her words to sting. For this bitch to drop dead, if possible. "Yeah, I don't even know you and I hate you already. Now go. You're just not the type of person I could ever see myself spending time with...lest I puke within the first twenty minutes of doing so." She looks to her watch. "Speaking of," she steps into her doorway, eyes still on Kahlan's verbally-wounded face, "I've already spent about nineteen minutes with you... The sight of your pasty white skin must have distracted me from performing faster... Now, peace." She slams the door.

Cara is furious as she stands by her staircase, and she isn't exactly clear why. _All three of them_, she scowls _- their car breaks down, they ask to take me to breakfast, but this one..._

Sure, the brunette is annoying, insultingly oblivious to her own rudeness, naive even, and doesn't seem to have the slightest idea about LGBT culture...even while identifying as part of it, but that alone isn't why Cara is angered. No, there's something else irritating her about this woman — about this encounter. Something she cannot quite pin down.

Cara has no time to ponder these thoughts further, however, for a lug wrench comes flying through her window, sending glass shards flying just about everywhere, but luckily not at her.

Cara drops her toolbox and moves in front of the window in her living room. She sees Kahlan standing there on the other side, chest heaving with ferocity and seeming to match the same anger exploding from her face.

"What the f**k, you psycho bitch!" Cara screams, stepping so close that all she has to do is walk through the window in order to reach the woman. "What the hell did you do?!"

"What does it look like I did?" Kahlan's expression fades from one of anger and is replaced by an almost-smug one...one full of malice. "Your window went bye-bye."

"Why you - " Cara steps through the glass, not caring for whatever remaining shards may fall on her, intent of strangling this dark-haired wench to an agonizing death.

Kahlan has already taken off running, and has reached the passenger side of her car.

"Wait!" Kahlan holds up a finger, and Cara uncharacteristically halts in the walkway.

_What is this sh*t?_ Cara halts for no one.

"You said I didn't have to pay you back before. That you didn't want to see me again... Well, now I have to. And you have to see me as well."

"All I have to do," Cara grinds her fist into her palm, eyes sparkling with outrage, "is call the police on your ass. You could have killed me, you stupid wench! In fact, I oughtta forget them and beat your ass right now." Cara is seeing red behind the eyes. "Seriously, I fix your car, and this is how you repay me?"

"I doubt you'll try to sue me," Kahlan says, very matter-of-fact, pulling out several hundred dollars and tossing them to the ground near the sidewalk. "This should make up for a new window. And because I acted reprehensibly, I'll have to make it up to you beyond this. Perhaps dinner sometime." She moves away from the car to head for the driver's side, getting in...all while never looking away from Cara.

Cara, for her part, is stumped, and doesn't know how to respond. "You don't know what I'll do," is all she can say.

Kahlan starts the engine and smirks. "And by the way...I could see where you stood through the window... I knew the right amount of pressure to apply so that no shard would hit you and certainly not the wrench... So suffice it to say, I wouldn't have killed you."

And with that, the brunette focuses on the road ahead and jets off, leaving Cara slack-jawed.

Cara reluctantly walks to the money near the sidewalk and swipes it up, watching a few bills float into the air after the retreating vehicle. "What is she, rich?... This is more than enough to pay for the window." Cara examines the cash, and has the urge to go after the bit floating down the street. But Cara also has her pride to consider; such pride has often kept her in check, kept her from doing foolish things — like looking desperate and weak by accepting money this way. There are eyes on her now, for some of the neighbors have stepped out onto their porches to observe the incident, she notices. They'd obviously heard the window break, the screaming, the rest. Hell...a few, with as nosy as they are, had probably even witnessed the whole thing.

_Sh*t._

Yes, Cara has her pride. But this is money. Money she deserves. Money she has every right to keep. Her pride is many things, but it will not get in the way of her accepting the dollars in her hands this day. Now the cash floating down the street? Her pride has every right to keep her from looking like a fool there.

IIII

Kahlan enters her home and closes the door with a self-satisfied grin on her face. The place still has that "new home" smell, and it is exactly what Kahlan needs to help rid herself of these aggravating thoughts — these aggravating thoughts of the even more aggravating Cara Mason.

_But do you really want to rid yourself of her? _her mind supplies. _After all, it is you who made it so that she now has to see you again... Except wait... Will she see you again? Now that you paid her? And if you see her again, will it be from behind bars? _

"Yes, I want to be rid of her!" Kahlan yells to her surroundings. "She's rude, uncouth, completely insensitive, and seems to have an odd prejudice against freckled-faced people."

_She's also quite attractive... Very attractive. _Kahlan nearly growls._ Alluring even, _her mind continues on.

"The only reason I insisted that I repay her is because it is the right thing to do... And the only reason I forced it on her is because I couldn't let her get away with treating me like that. Talking to me like that." Kahlan moves into her living room. "If she wants nothing to do with me, having to deal with me is the best payback, is it not?"

_Not very convincing._

"Shut up!"

Kahlan sighs, looking around her decent-sized home. "Get a hold of yourself, Kahlan. You're doing it again... Talking to yourself."

Kahlan rakes her hands through her long raven-hair and really takes time to examine her surroundings. The carpet is blue and red, and the living room walls are a rainbow mix of green, blue and orange, with various types of birds depicted in "very erotic" manners. Not that Kahlan finds birds "erotic." It's not as though she's been so long without sex that she'll find just about anything "erotic" these days. No, that's not the case at all.

The place is simply weird in its design. Over in the kitchen, which can be seen through the slitted double doors to her right, the cabinets and walls are painted pink and yellow; the yellow are the many polka dots defacing it. And the ceiling there? Impossibly bright red. All of it makes Kahlan wonder if this home was previously preoccupied by circus clowns. Maybe rodeo clowns even. But it was all she could acquire on such a short notice, wanting a place especially close to her school of choice. From what she'd learned, the previous owners had recently redesigned the home just two months ago. Why someone would put effort into something they were just going to abandon a short time later, Kahlan doesn't know. Or how, seeing as this is an apartment and apartments don't really belong to the occupants, they were even permitted to do such a thing.

Kahlan walks toward her couch and plops down. At least the living room ceiling and fan are made up of "normal colors" typical of a home; the ceiling colored an "off-white," and the fan brown and beige.

She reaches for the cell phone resting on the table, and dials up a number. _If only I'd taken this with me earlier, I'd never have met that rude Cara woman. That's for damn sure._

In the next moment, she sighs, biting on her bottom lip_. But would you really have wanted that?_

Someone answers on the other end, and Kahlan eagerly welcomes the distraction. "Hi, mom..."

There is a pause.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Kahlan nearly giggles. "No, mom... Mom... Mother, slow down." There is another brief pause, and then... "I made it here earlier this morning..."

Kahlan looks over her shoulder to the stacked boxes behind her, and then back to the table. "I would have called then, but I was just so excited to see everything. It's...It's amazing here, mom. I had to check out the area. I barely even looked at the apartment before I left. But the men you hired had all my stuff here already. And then...my car broke down..."

Kahlan winces. "Now, c'omn. I know how to take care of myself, and it was just a flat tire. That's another reason it took so long — contacting you... Mom, I left my cell and was forced to ask a stranger for help."

Another pause.

"No, no...it was a woman. And while she helped, she was extremely rude... Mother, I don't think I've ever met anyone as vile as her."

Another pause.

"What?" Kahlan props her feet up on the table. "No, I did not lose my temper..."

Stops to reconsider.

"..Okay, maybe a little, but, mom, she deserved it, and..."

Kahlan eyes her nails as her mother interrupts yet again.

"Yes, I know I need to learn to control it. But... It's just that -"

Another interruption.

"What?..." Kahlan sits up straight. "No, I don't think she's cute... I... Yes, I understand that you and father think I become infatuated with anyone who teases me enough and or angers me immensely, so long as they're cute... But ...It's more than that, mom."

Another pause.

"... Yes, I'm still on 'this gay kick'... And it's not a 'gay kick.' I'm really attracted to women, mom, I've told you before. Both of you."

She looks up to the ceiling, blows hair out of her face. "...Alright, true, I may not be one hundred percent, but -"

Kahlan taps her feet together. "Okay, fine... She is cute."

IIII

Cara needed to head down to the fire station after the day she'd just had — the twenty or so minutes she'd wasted on that annoying brunette.

Immediately after dealing with Kahlan, she'd decided to screw the chief's orders about "taking time off" and to just get there. She'd waited some hours, of course, debating with herself the pros and cons of disobeying her superior.

The chief had said "a few days," but Cara figures two days are more than enough. Experienced firefighters are needed. The best, in fact. And Cara prides herself on being "one of the best." Not just "one of the best female firefighters," but one of the best firefighters period. If she had not worked with a few others who are just as good at the job as she is, if not better, she would have called herself "the best" by now.

Cara is again about to go over all the possible reasons for why Chief could have kept her from work for two days already, but she soon has no reason to ponder when she pulls her car up to a sidewalk, right in front of a crowd of reporters, civilians, and by-standers seemingly anxiously awaiting her arrival right outside the Fire Department City of New York (FDNY). Some of her fellow firefighters — Adam, for example — are also there, along with Chief Gates, apparently trying to fend off the crowd.

"F**k off, and let us do our job. You've kept this up for two days now. Can't you see she isn't here?" Cara hears the chief state as she exits her car, and slams the door hard. The chief looks worn-down, his gray hair appearing grayer than ever, and the bags, as well as strained lines, under his eyes, making him look beyond his 50 years of age. He is a good guy, a hard worker with many years of experience at all levels of firefighting, as well as superior management skills, especially under the stress of emergency situations. And the fact that he is now cursing, something he hardly ever does, makes Cara's blood boil with fury. For three years, this man has been like a father to her, and he does not deserve this. Not because of her mistake. It is easy to see that that's why the reporters are here — Cara's mistake at the elevator building. Cara is certain that the only reason the annoying pests have yet to swamp her yard is that where she lives is not exactly public knowledge. Her fame, and "Public Record," be damned. Cara has made contacts with all sorts of important people, and is constantly protected by/changing homes thanks to those connections. By the time people discover a former resident of hers, she's already at her new resident. Well-settled and content. And if anyone dare try to follow her home, they'd be spotted and taken care of. Not murdered, but "taken care of."

"It's Cara Mason!" yells one reporter, finally spotting her, and soon Cara is swarmed, backed into the door of her own car. "Ms. Mason, is it true that you chose to save an elderly woman over children?"

"You killed my child!," screams one civilian, pointing Cara's way. His hair and eyes are dark, so dark that Cara is thankful she has the sunlight to illuminate his features. He isn't an ugly man, but he currently displays the ugliest expression Cara has ever seen. His skin is tan, lips curved in a sneer, and the expression on his face now can only be described as "scary as f**k." Downright serial killer even.

"What kind of hero are you?" he continues. "You choose an old hag who is quite arguably close to death anyway...over my child?" he yells. "I hate you. I hope you burn in hell!" he rages even more furiously. "You don't deserve the praise you have!"

The man is pushed aside and further into the background by more reporters trying to make their way to Cara. "What do you make of that, Ms. Mason? Any response?" one asks.

"Is it true that some firefighters lost their lives because they went into the building after you in particular?" asks another.

"Why didn't you wait for others to assist you, Ms. Mason?"

"Call the police," Chief Gates advises Adam. "These buzzards aren't going anywhere by themselves." Adam runs off into the station, and Chief Gates makes his way through the crowd toward Cara. "That's enough! Enough!" he yells.

"What do you have to say regarding some of your fellow firefighters blaming you for the loss of several of their 'brothers'?" questions another reporter, holding the microphone toward Cara's face.

Chief Gates knocks the microphone away, but not before Cara catches the faces of a few of her firefighting partners, almost certainly confirming that they blame her for some of the lost lives. "I said enough," Gates continues. He turns to Cara. "I'm sorry. This..." he gestures toward the crowd, "this is why I didn't want you here... You see that? You understand that now?"

Cara nods.

"Go," Gates adds. "We'll handle this...I'll call you when its safer to return to work."

Wanting nothing more to do with this scene, and feeling quite sick to her stomach, Cara wastes no time getting into the car, Gates and his men clearing a path for her departure.

She drives off, toward the setting sun.

IIII

The following night, a few of Cara's firefighter buddies have joined her in the living room for a game of poker. The area is partially cleared to allow for the wide table. Beer cans and cigars sit beside card decks. And soft drinks, chips and other treats line the sofa behind them. The flat screen television is placed to their right, channel on the fanciest sports network.

Cara's window is fixed, and she's told the guys — these three only — about how it came to break; the silly old woman, three strangers, the brunette in particular. They'd laughed, and encouraged her to laugh about the incidents as well. In fact, they'd invited themselves here tonight, saying she needed something to take her mind off of the "blame game" going on. That Starvos had decided to drag men in there after her, and that it wasn't — isn't — her fault.

"Screw those traitors," says Nathan, puffing on a cigar, a deck of cards in his hands. Sitting across from Cara, Nathan is an earnest-looking fellow with bright blond hair and a killer smile. The lines on his face are quite rugged, making him appear mid to late thirties, while he is only 28. Still, they enhance his "all-American" male appearance. "The damn bastards," he mumbles under his breath. "They got nothing better to do than to help the media sensationalize stories," he adds loudly. "They're just jealous of all the favoritism so many show you."

Next to Nathan sits Tanner, who is your typical scrawny guy; the only thing distinguishing him is the thin, long mustache he twirls around just like those cartoon villains of past decades. He apparently agrees with Nathan.

And Adam? He is seated beside Cara watching her carefully.

"Not much favoritism going on right now," says Cara, dragging her thumb along the side of the table. She clearly is in a somber mood.

"Hey, tell us more about the old lady and her prophecies." Adam smiles, nudging Cara in an attempt to cheer her up.

"Oh, yeah," Tanner adds, putting his stack of cards down and sit backs. "We're not playing much poker anyway. Tell us more about these alternate dimensions."

"I bet Cara is a zombie slayer in one, and Adam a drag queen in another," states Nathan, putting his cards down as well.

Adam reaches behind him and hurls a bag of chips Nathan's way. "Not funny, man."

"Cara probably wields d**dos battling those zombie creatures," Tanner says with a grin.

"You'd be surprised," Cara utters above a whisper, visions of the blond woman in red, skin-tight leather wielding similar tools bouncing around in her head.

"Okay, how about a joke," says Adam.

"Your jokes suck," Nathan and Tanner agree, throwing cards at his face.

"No, no..." Adam waves for the card-throwing to stop. "This one is good."

"Go ahead and tell it." Cara shrugs, drawing circles with her fingers on the table.

"Okay, this woman in a dazzling dress arrives at work and heads for her office. On her way to the office, a man says, 'Nice ass.' She says thank you for the compliment, and proceeds to her destination. The next day, the same woman in a dazzling dress arrives at work and heads for her office. On her way to the office, the same man says, 'Nice breasts.' She says thank you for the compliment, and proceeds to her destination. The day after that, the same woman in a dazzling dress arrives at work and heads for her office. On her way to the office, the same man approaches yet again, but this time he gets real close and says, 'Your hair smells good.' The woman says, 'How dare you?' That's sexual harassment. I'm reporting you to the boss.' She goes into the boss's office and says, 'I've just been sexually harassed. Do something. This man just said the most vile thing to me.'... The boss says, 'Well, what did he say?' The woman says he told me my hair smells good. The boss says, 'So?' The woman says, 'He was a midget.'"

Just then, Nathan bursts out laughing, grabbing at his chest for dear life, and Cara smiles a bit too. "That's so wrong," she replies.

"That's f**king hilarious," assures Nathan.

Tanner shrugs. "I don' t get it."

Nathan pops him in the back of the head. "The guy's a midget. She was wearing a dress."

"Ohhhh," clarify finally dawns on Tanner.

"Glad you guys liked it," states Adam leaning back in his chair. "I mean, I don't like using the word 'midget,' but I thought it was worth telling."

"You got a pretty damn potty mouth for a man of faith," Nathan laughs.

The others chuckle.

Their good-hearted atmosphere is interrupted by a report on the news speaking of the fire at the 331 elevator building, of Cara in particular. Adam quickly shuts off the television. "Cara..."

The doorbell rings, and Cara quickly jumps up at the opportunity to distract herself. "I'll get that," she points over her shoulder.

"Did somebody order pizza?" asks Tanner. "Did you order pizza?" he looks to Nathan, and Nathan again pops him in the back of the head.

Cara opens the door, and is shocked to find Kahlan standing there. The brunette's hair is straight instead of wavy like the day before, and she is in some kind of ruffle bow blouse; it's V-cut, black and pretty and all that, but Cara's attention lingers on the woman's beige skirt...those legs. Those pretty feet in the open-toe beige sandals.

"I just heard about the fire." Kahlan starts, and Cara looks up at her. "I thought you could maybe use some time away? That this may be an okay time to repay you?"

Cara just stares, unsure of what to say. Why this woman feels it is okay to show her face here again, Cara is not sure. Even more perplexing is the fact that the woman even cares to show up.

"That the crazy one who broke your window, Car?" asks Tanner.

"Shh," states Nathan.

Adam just grins.

All three men are now on the couch trying their best to get a glimpse of this Kahlan woman. "Is she hot?" asks Tanner. "I don't know," replies Nathan. "Move your head."

"Yeah, she's hot," Adam answers.

Cara looks to her side at the men, then back at Kahlan. "Let's go." She doesn't know why she's agreeing to go anywhere with this woman...except that she needs to get away. Away from friends who care so much that it hurts.

IIII

The car ride is silent, neither attempting to say a word as Kahlan drives ahead.

Though they do steal glances every now and then — Kahlan focusing on Cara's face; Cara focusing on Kahlan's legs.

IIII

"Where the f**k are we?" questions Cara, sitting opposite Kahlan and taking a hefty bite into the sub sandwich before her.

"Where does it look like we are?"

"A second-rate diner," Cara looks around, seeing a few people staring her way. "Why'd you bring me here? It must have been like an hour's drive."

"It may be second-rate," Kahlan folds a napkin in her lap, "but it's still one of the best...from what I read anyway... And I brought you here because it's an hour's drive away. I proposed that you 'get away,' and that is exactly what I meant to do."

"Well, news flash: People seem to know who I am here too," Cara puts down her sub and nods in the direction of a few customers watching her closely from the bar; others from a table. "It's not like we're suddenly in LA. This is still New York. And I am still this city's black sheep."

"Ignore them," Kahlan offers. "You needed to be in an unfamiliar environment. Some place you don't usually go."

"You don't know what I need," Cara sneers.

"So tell me," Kahlan takes a bite into her own sub; it's a vegetarian mix, and she savors the blend of olives and the like.

Cara watches Kahlan for a moment. _This woman_... She sits backs, relaxed. She can deal with this. Converse for more than a few minutes with someone she detests. "This is how you repay me for breaking my window...for almost killing me?"

"Oh, c'omn, Cara," Kahlan wipes her hands with a napkin. "It's all I could think to do on such short notice." She briefly leans in, whispering, "And I didn't almost kill you."

"So is this the part where we get to know each other?" Cara folds her arms across her chest, having suddenly lost her appetite...for food anyway. "I tell you about me. You tell me about you?"

"We could try," Kahlan grins.

"Why do you even care to pay me back? To know anything about me?"

"I..." Kahlan looks down at her plate. ... Nervous... Excited... "I find you intriguing," she admits, looking back up to meet Cara's gaze. But not before blushing.

Cara cocks her head. Who is this woman who always seems to go out of her way just to be near her? _And why does she get under my skin so much_? "Okay, are your breasts real?"

"Are your lips real?"

They sit there in a staring match for several seconds, until Cara finally breaks: "Very."

"Same."

"Your last relationship - as in lovers - when was it?"

"Two years ago," Kahlan blushes innocently. "When was yours?"

"Two weeks ago," Cara smirks, watching Kahlan shift uncomfortably at that revelation. "What do you do?" asks Cara.

Kahlan smiles, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Astronomy... It's ... It's the study of the celestial bodies and their compositions, motions, and origins -"

" - I know what astronomy is," Cara interrupts.

" - Do you know all of it?" Kahlan challenges.

Cara waves her hand in defeat, an epic eye-roll threatening to make an appearance.

"Like I was saying," the brunette grins even wider. "I originally wanted to be a photographer, but that's over now." She pauses. "I just moved to New York yesterday to attend a school here. Not a full-blown astronomer yet. Only 24, but I'm getting there."

"And are there different types of astronomers?"

"Are there different types of firemen?"

"There are... But we're talking about you now, not me."

Kahlan sighs. "Most astronomers concentrate on a particular question or area of astronomy, for example, planetary science, solar astronomy, the origin and evolution of stars, or the formation of galaxies... You know, stuff like that."

"No, I don't know stuff like that." Cara arches an eyebrow.

"You said you did." Kahlan laughs.

"I said I'm familiar with astronomy. Meaning...I know of it."

Kahlan smiles some more, but decides to go on. "Observational astronomers design and carry out observing programs with a telescope or spacecraft to answer a question or test the predictions of theories. Theorists work with complex computer models of a star's interior, for example, to understand the physical processes responsible for the star's appearance." Kahlan picks up her glass of soda and takes a sip. "But enough about me. What about you? How long does it take to become a firefighter?"

"Some might only spend less than a year at the process, while others might take 2 to 5 or 3 to 7 years to become a firefighter," Cara shrugs, "– assuming you are putting everything you have into the job. It took me only a year. I'm 24 now. But women are not getting recruited and hired because of an occupational culture that is exclusionary and unequal in employment practices in recruiting, hiring, assigning and promoting women generally...at least according to one critic. So that makes me lucky."

"Indeed," Kahlan eyes the way Cara's folded arms flex across her chest.

Cara doesn't seem to notice. "So how long does it take to become an astronomer?"

"I guess it varies just as much as firefighting," Kahlan selects a chip from her plate, taking a swift bite."Many astronomers majored in physics in college. Physics can give you a more enriched education in the physical sciences. And, um, let's see, in the United States, a typical astronomer has a Ph.D. in astronomy or physics. This can take a long time - six years beyond a Bachelor of Science (B.S.) degree is common. After earning a B.S., graduate school courses take another two to three years. And by the end of the second year... Well, basically, it takes a long time," Kahlan takes another sip of her drink. "Hey, what do you say we go outside and I teach you a few things? The sky is excellent tonight. Perfect for an overview of the stars."

_Teach me a few things?_ Cara's mind goes places she'd rather it not. She wants Dahlia. Or even Leo. Not Kahlan. Not freckled-faced, obnoxious Kahlan. "You mean out on that hill outback? What is a hill doing in the back of a diner?"

"I don't know," Kahlan shrugs, then stands. "But it sounds fun," she heads for the door, playfully looking over her shoulder at Cara.

Cara is not sure if she likes where this is going. And Kahlan had better not be flirting with her. But she resolves to be strong...gets up and follows.

IIII

Outside, the two sit on a hill some distance behind the diner, Kahlan looking up at the stars; Cara looking at Kahlan.

"Cara?" asks Kahlan. "Why do you hate freckled-faced people?" She looks to her side at the blonde.

Cara almost snorts at that. "Just look at how you reacted after I told you I didn't want to spend any time with you. You people have insane temperaments. Maybe anger management is in order. That especially goes for red-heads."

Kahlan laughs.

There is a pause.

"Maybe," she leans in closer, "you should have just accepted my offer."

Cara looks to the ground at this, wanting to escape the other woman's penetrating gaze and that odd closeness she is putting upon her. "Blame the victim, I see."

"Cara Mason thinking of herself as a victim? Doesn't seem right." Kahlan looks back up to the sky.

"Like you know me."

"I've read enough about you."

"Whatever."

Kahlan looks back to the blonde; Cara is still eyeing the ground.

"Do you think me ugly?" asks Kahlan.

"Yes." Cara says it without hesitation.

It is a lie, and a ridiculous one, no doubt. But what else is she supposed to say? Her eyes find Kahlan's. "But what does it matter? I don't like you... I think you don't like me. And we're only here tonight because you broke my window. After this, I don't ever want to see you again."

"Hmm." Kahlan looks back up at the stars.

"I don't like freckled-faced people," Cara starts, "because when I was five, a little freckled-faced brat - male - stole the teacher's gum, then blamed it on me. When I was seven, a red-headed minion kissed me right on the cheek in front of everyone; she made me the laughing-stock for two weeks. When I was ten, this girl, face full of freckles, wouldn't let me borrow her deodorant after P.E.; I had to sit there in class, musty, for the rest of the day with people snickering all behind me. And, finally, when I was twelve, this freckled-faced girl was supposed to be my first sexual experience. We stopped once I got to her lower region and pulled back a handful of blood — her period was on that day."

Kahlan bursts out laughing.

"What?" Cara turns to her with a scowl.

"It's just...your entire foundation for hating freckled-faced people is based on unfortunate childhood experiences."

"And?"

"And," Kahlan glances over at Cara. "It's time to get over it."

"I'll have you know...those events were very traumatic for me."

Kahlan laughs some more.

Cara growls, turning her back on the woman, pulling her knees to her chest.

"So then you don't like red-headed people either?"

"Quite possibly."

"People with no freckles on the face but on other parts of their body?"

"I haven't thought that far."

"I see."

There is a long pause. Nothing but cars heard coming through and exiting. And then...

"It is impossible to dissect, weigh, touch, smell, or otherwise experiment with a star," Kahlan begins, her eyes raking over the night sky. "For the most part, we learn about astronomical objects indirectly by observing the light they emit or reflect, and measuring the motions they and their celestial neighbors exhibit."

Cara slowly turns back around to watch Kahlan go on and on about "the stars this" and "the stars that." And as she does, she doesn't know how she ever managed to call the woman ugly. In truth, there isn't an ugly thing about her, not looks or personality.

_Certainly not looks_, Cara thinks eyeing Kahlan's deliciously taunting throat.

"Gains in astronomical knowledge are made through research," Kahlan continues, "a systematic inquiry in which scientists define a question, gather relevant data, formulate a hypothesis, then test the predic -"

She is stopped mid-sentence when she feels a hot, wet tongue on her throat.

Cara's tongue is pushing there, languidly but no less sensually, one hand resting on Kahlan's shoulder; the other at the base of Kahlan's neck.

_This... Ahh...This makes no sense. _Kahlan is stiff.

Then, as if snapping back to reality, Kahlan jolts to her feet, glaring down at a clearly starved Cara. "What do you think you're doing?" she holds a hand to her neck as though Cara is a vampire who has just taken a bite.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cara states very matter of fact.

Kahlan stomps her foot. "You were just licking my neck!"

"Was not!" Cara rises to her feet, face just as adamant as her challenger.

Kahlan feels the woman must have split personalities. _Either that, or she thinks me stupid_. "Do you think me stupid?" Kahlan breathes frustratedly. "I saw you. I felt you!"

Cara growls, turning her back on the woman. She stalks away a bit, kicking grass, and then comes back. "Okay, so I did. But isn't that the point of all this? Of tonight? You want to get laid, right? Why else would you be so insistent on spending time with me?"

"It's called being a good person," Kahlan balls her fists.

"Oh, come off of it," Cara marches to her. Close. Very close.

She eyes Kahlan's cleavage. "You need sex just as badly as I do. Here and now." She runs a hand through the brunette's brilliant mane of hair.

Kahlan does her best not to whimper.

"You don't even like me, Cara."

"So."

"You think of me as ugly."

"People have sex with ugly people all the time." Cara leans in. "I need to forget, Kahlan." She pulls the brunette into her, slowly encircling her waist. "Help me forget... Kahlan... Please?"

She leans in. Ready...eager...to capture Kahlan's lips with her own. "Just spread your legs for me, okay? Just a little?"

"No!" Kahlan pushes Cara away, clutching her chest as if attacked there.

Cara grinds her teeth angrily. "Fine!" She starts to march down the hill.

"Where are you going?" Kahlan queries. "Cara?!"

"Home... I never want to see you again. Just stay away from me. You've repaid me enough." _But not nearly enough._

_"_How will you get home?"

"I'll walk. Hitchhike. Call a cab. Just as long as I get away from you."

Cara doesn't need this. She really doesn't. Not this drama, not this insanity. Not this fire the brunette has ignited in her.

_At least Leo and Dahlia are willing to 'put out.' _

Kahlan watches the blonde go; her senses are just as frustrated...just as angered...just as aroused. And she cannot help feeling that she's quite possibly made the biggest mistake of her life.


	2. PART 1 of PART 2

**Note**: The harshest curse words have been bleeped out (mainly the F-word), since this is the PG-13/TV-14 version, and the intimacy scene has been tamed just a bit. The uncensored version is at LiveJournal under the same title/same user name.

IIII

With the night she had, it's no wonder Kahlan came straight home and headed for bath down the hall. That's what she'd needed. A bath. A bath to soak away all the tension in her body, mind, and heart.

_Heart?_ she wonders, drying off with a towel and slipping into a robe. She's only just met this woman. Has conversed with her for less than an hour...total. And already this obnoxious blonde is in her heart?

_Can't be._

Kahlan moves down the hall, and out into the living room. It's dark and a little chilly, with her freshly-washed skin exposed to the air-conditioning, but it's nothing she can't handle. Hugging herself tightly, she walks to the window by the front door. The scenery there cannot change the direction of her thoughts, however.

_This Cara woman is already in my heart? This arrogant firefighter I barely know...who dares to belittle me, dares to call me ugly, dares to try and use me as a sexual substitute?_

_Impossible!_

In the brief instances they'd talked, Kahlan hadn't even been completely honest with the blonde. She's not here to attend some astronomy school. Not when she could have just as easily attended any one of the decent astronomy programs back at home. In fact, several of the schools there offer physics and astronomy departments. And while it's true that Kahlan had wanted a home especially close to her school of choice, here in New York, school is not what truly brought her here.

Freedom did_._

Freedom from her parents, so that she may finally become independent. All her life, she'd never been very independent, often relying on her parents' wealth for the things she wanted to do in life. When she was a teenager, never did she have to seek a job, for money, cars, or college. It had all been handed to her. And when she couldn't quite decide to stick with a four-year college plan, dropping out to experience hands-on photography, she'd even used the family money to travel the world. Really, in the span of four years, Kahlan has seen so many different cultures and spectacular ways of living, that it almost seems odd that she has wound up in a very non-spectacular apartment in some small downtown area of New York.

But then again, New York is one of the several few cities she isn't familiar with. As most of her traveling has taken place outside of the USA, there's still plenty of America for her left to explore. Plenty to do to reclaim her adulthood. And what is adulthood without independency? _An overgrown child?_

Kahlan sighs. She figures her parents must have known her true reasons for leaving. Otherwise, they would have insisted she take more than just a small portion of her inheritance to help her get situated.

When she'd selected the _Columbia University Department of Astronomy_ in New York, it was really the luck of the draw, the first page she'd turned to. She'd been looking for an astronomy school in any of the US states, having finally decided on a different career choice and the only other profession she considers herself "masterful" in. Having studied astronomy and astrophysics long before now, it's always been her main backup plan. And since her selection really could have landed her anywhere, she wonders why she ended up here.

She looks out the window to a see a man lighting some fireworks to her side. She'd almost forgotten about the Fourth of July, and she wishes she could say she'll be in the mood for celebrating when it finally arrives.

Closing the blinds, she bites on her bottom lip and hugs herself just a little tighter, as unwanted thoughts take her: _Could it have something to do with this Cara Mason woman? That I wound up here?... _

Her fingers drum at her sides. _But thinking like that is silly, isn't it? To believe that fate drew us together? _

Her hands move from hugging her midsection to instead rake through her hair.

_It's not as though I've suddenly found the love of my life. She's doesn't even like me!_

Kahlan starts to pace, then suddenly stops.

_Still... I feel especially drawn to her._ _Attraction alone doesn't urge on these kinds of feelings, does_ it? _To where I'm eager to see her again, to where I want to touch her...to hold her...to take away her pain. That same pain I saw on her face just moments ago. _

_..._To kiss her.__

Kahlan growls, sinking to the couch__._ You sound like an obsessed stalker_. _For goodness sake, you don't even know the woman!_

Disturbed by this fact, Kahlan lies back, looking up at the ceiling with much confusion. "But then...why does it feel like I do?"

_And why'd I turn you away?_

She stays like this for hours, up until early morning, consumed by thoughts of the blond stranger and the way she has set her heart aflame.

Kahlan may not particularly care for this city. Or any American city, really. But she cares for this blond stranger named Cara Mason. And as she looks around her joke of an apartment — lonely and enveloped in silence — she is even more certain of that. Cara makes her feel alive. More alive than photography. More alive than all the constellations put together.

And, well, Kahlan Amnell always has to feel alive.

IIII

Some miles away in a fairly productive neighborhood, the civilian who taunted Cara Mason in front of the FDNY among dozens of reporters sits solemnly in a chair watching television. The words he spoke race repeatedly through his head: _"You killed my child!... What kind of hero are you?... You choose an old hag who is quite arguably close to death anyway...over my child?... I hate you. I hope you burn in hell!... You don't deserve the praise you have!"_

The screams fade out as his dark eyes, tear-stained and angry, focus on a gray-haired man on television shouting at a fire scene. A female reporter is heard in voice-over, "Cara Mason was doing her job, said Fire Chief Kenneth L. Gates of the tragedy that befell the 331 elevator building."

"She was brave and couldn't save everyone. That's not something she should be faulted for," Gates is heard saying.

The man squeezes the remote control just a bit tighter.

Just as a woman in a white nightgown comes down the stairs. She's serene-looking and her eyes are as tear-stained as the man's. "Peter, you should come to bed. Obsessing like this, it's not healthy. The best we... we can do is honor Lacey, and...," the woman's voice falters and she weeps.

Peter squeezes the remote even tighter.

IIII

The next morning, 8: 30 AM, Kahlan sits in a half-full class at the Department of Astronomy in Columbia University. Normally, the summer course would last from mid May until the end of mid July. But this summer, they have extended it all the way until the first of August, which is just fine by Kahlan, since it will give her extra time to study. It's already July 3rd, and for prerequisites, preparation and a working knowledge of high school algebra are recommended. These are things Kahlan already has covered of course, but taking this career seriously means studying its topics just as extensively...even if well-versed in them. Because of this, she started classes early back home, and used her family connections to enable her to continue that work here without any difficulty attending a course so late in its run.

The class will be studying the overall architecture of the solar system, motions of the celestial sphere, time, major and minor planets, the earth-moon system, comets and beyond.

The teacher — or more accurately, instructor — is male and average, and stands at the podium, his slender form commanding attention. His hair, red as it is, reminds Kahlan of a bright flame. And his eyes convey a sense of wisdom, as well as kindness.

The students hang on his every word.

"How about we start with an introduction to the topic?" his gaze scans the room.

The students moan their displeasure, grumbling about how they wouldn't be here if they didn't already know the basics. Kahlan silently giggles, which brings the teacher's attention right to her. "Ah, but your forget," he says, holding up some sort of 'teaching stick'. "Some of you are here for a refresher course. There are even a few of you who are completely unfamiliar with what comprises the skies," he holds Kahlan's gaze and Kahlan shakes her head in warning, as if to say "you're staring down the wrong woman."

The teacher points his stick her way nevertheless. "How about you, new student... Ms. Kahlan Amnell, is it?" he smirks. "Perhaps you can give us a little introductory?" The class turns to Kahlan.

Kahlan narrows her eyes, and doesn't break the teacher's gaze. "Astronomy, as typically defined, is the study of objects and matter beyond the earth's realm, as well as the physical and chemical properties of that atmosphere. Some call it 'the study of everything'."

The teacher looks impressed. And so does the class; one young man in particular is especially eyeing her.

Kahlan doesn't appear to notice. "There are a variety of astronomy fields," she says. "There's cosmologists, people who study the Universe as a whole, including its beginnings. There's astrometrists, people who measure great distances. We have planetologists, people who study planets within our own solar system, not to mention those orbiting distant stars. And, finally, there's radio and mathematical astronomers; the first group use radio-telescopes to study the universe. The second use numbers, calculations and statistics to explain the universe."

There is silence, most of the students watching this new addition with evident curiosity.

"That will be all," the teacher says, looking to his students as he finally breaks gaze with the woman. "Ms Amnell clearly knows her astronomy."

One muscular boy, barely out of his teens, appears displeased with that. He sits a few feet behind Kahlan and grumbles. "So that's why we had to revisit Astronomy 101? For some new girl?"

Kahlan looks over her shoulder at the boy, then turns back around, as though she cannot be bothered to look at him any further.

"Would you not want me to do the same for you?" the teacher asks.

"Yes, Mr. Gregory," the boy sighs deeply. "But it turns out she knows this stuff already, like all of us here." He sits up straight, frowning. "And she clearly isn't supposed to be here, considering that it's pretty late in the semester. So how exactly did she get in this class?"

"That's none of your concern." He waves the stick around before going back to stand behind the podium. "Ms. Amnell, as I told the class...while making some adjustments in course material to allow for the summer format, I planned to approximate the work of a normal semester, and that's what I did. You, in turn, should plan to spend two to three hours of study outside class for every hour spent in class. Also be aware that a three-hour class session could require up to nine hours of preparation."

"Yes, sir," Kahlan nods. But as Mr. Gregory goes on, Kahlan's mind can't help but go back to thoughts of Cara.

IIII

Class turns out to be three hours long. Three too many, as far as Kahlan is concerned. And as she stands, eager to get out of there, a slender man approaches her. He's good-looking, with blond hair going just past his jawline, and his eyes are as green as Cara's. "I'm David," he says with a smile, holding out a hand for her acceptance.

_He's not, Cara,_ Kahlan's mind supplies. He's not even as pretty. But she holds out a hand just the same.

"Kahlan," she says, gripping firmly, even as she uses her other hand to sling a backpack over her shoulder.

"Do you need help around campus?" His teeth almost sparkle. "Because I could show you around if you like." He beams nervously.

Kahlan feels awful that she couldn't care less. "No, that won't be necessary." She grabs all her belongings and rushes past him.

"Really? Because, I really don't -" he watches her practically flee out the doorway, "- mind," he finishes.

IIII

Mr. Gregory had been right about the whole "_two to three hours of study outside class for every hour spent in class_." Class had ended at 11:30 PM, even though it had apparently lasted from 3:00 PM-5:10 PM last semester. And now it's 4:00 PM, and Kahlan, lying belly first on her bedroom floor, text books open in front of her, hasn't even begun to scrape the barrel of all the studying ahead of her. No thanks to her constant fantasizing about Cara.

There's barely any room for missing a day, as the instructor must be notified in advance of any absences. And here she is thinking about Cara. If unforeseen circumstances cause a student to miss more than two class meetings, the student should consider withdrawing from the course. "It's hopeless," Kahlan gives up on her attempts to stop thinking of the blonde.

_What would've happened had I let her have me last night?_ Elbows supporting the hands under her chin, she swings her legs from side to side before biting down hard on a pencil. _Would she have just discarded me like trash afterward? Like a lapse in her judgment, her sanity, considering that she hates freckled-faced people? _

Kahlan sighs.

She knows how important it is to pay attention to her studies, she really does, but she has to see Cara Mason again. As often as she can, no matter how crazy it sounds. Because until she understands why this woman plagues her every waking thought, she'll never be satisfied.

"I have to see her now," she whispers.

IIII

"You sure you can't find her?" Cara sits on her bed, cell phone to her ear. Since last night, she's been trying to find the old woman she saved from the fire. The old woman named Shota. Being turned down by Kahlan had sparked an overwhelming need to find the elderly female who'd warned her of death and three strangers determining her fate. Cara needs to know why she's so drawn to these individuals, Kahlan in particular. And why this is happening to her — the feelings, the images of a woman in red, the rest of the insanity.

Unfortunately, she hasn't been able to locate the woman. Contact after contact has reported her to be missing. Or, more accurately, "unable to be found." Cara wonders just how an elderly woman — any woman or person — could vanish without a trace. Not unless possessing the type of resources Cara has.

The old woman did leave something behind, however: The medium-sized brown envelope that Cara currently holds in her free hand. Given to her when she'd visited the station earlier today, Chief Gates had said it was left in her name. The visit to the station hadn't been as hectic as Cara had expected. Turns out Gates has done an excellent job keeping the reporters away. The men hired to keep her residence a secret had also shown their skill, sharp on the lookout for anyone daring to follow her home. As Cara accepted the package, she reasoned that if she were truly famous, everyone's efforts to protect her would be fruitless. The paparazzi would have long ago located her residence by helicopter by now.

She looks down to the envelope in her hand and realizes that the only reason she has yet to open it is because she strangely fears it. And fear is not something the young firefighter is used to feeling.

"So this is all I have?" Cara asks into the phone. "Some envelope?" She feels the tiny block at the end, as the person on the other line suggests it may lead to the woman's whereabouts. "Really good work there," she says sarcastically, slamming the phone shut. She just sits there staring at the package in her hands.

Until the doorbell rings.

"What now?" she rolls her eyes. And with a deep sigh, stands to place the envelope into the drawer next to her bed before moving out the bedroom door.

IIII

When Cara opens the front door to find Kahlan Amnell standing there, she is not amused in the least. "What in the fuck?" Cara scowls, disbelieving that this woman could actually have the gall to show her face here again.

"I have an offer for you," Kahlan simply leans one hand against the door frame.

Cara pulls out her cellphone, immediately working it.

"Who are you dialing?"

"The cops. It's clear that I have a stalker on my hands."

Kahlan reaches for Cara's hand, stilling those tan fingers and pinning her with a hard gaze. "There's something between us, Cara. I know you feel it, too."

Cara lets Kahlan's hand stay where it is, but not without feeling uneasy about it. "Nothing good," she grits her teeth.

"About last night," Kahlan begins.

Cara finally snatches away, slamming the phone shut. "Is that what this is about? You want an apology?"

"No, I -"

" - I admit I should apologize for how I acted." Cara folds her arms across her chest.

Silence envelops them.

More silence.

More.

And then...

"Well, you can leave now," Cara says, gesturing toward Kahlan's car. "I've apologized, and you're trespassing."

Kahlan's face drops. "What? You call that...an apology?" She appears incredulous.

"Beggars can't be picky." Cara looks off to the side, as though bored.

Kahlan marvels at just how much of a prick this woman really is. "Wow, you really are a piece of work."

"Goodbye now," Cara makes a move to close the door.

"Wait," Kahlan interjects and the door closes only halfway before meeting her hand. "I want to do you a favor. A real favor this time. This isn't about the window I broke or anything like that. I believe we can both agree I repaid you enough for that indiscretion." Cara arches an eyebrow; Kahlan continues, "This is about you being so close-minded. So incredibly ridiculous to freckled-faced people, that I need to help you. I have to help you get over this irrational phobia." Kahlan takes a step closer. "Think about it, Cara. There will be days when you'll have to work with freckled people, if you haven't already. There may even be days when you'll have to save one of them. So considering all that, are you just going to dismiss them because of a few dots on their faces? Let them die because of that?"

Cara's teeth grind in agitation. "Are you questioning my ethics?" She moves closer, their noses just an inch apart. "You think that just because I had a weak moment where I confided in you about the horrors experienced at the hands of a few freckled-faced brats, you can diagnose me with some phobia?"

"With bigotry then," Kahlan corrects herself, her breath becoming uneven. "Closed-mindedness."

Cara backs away, not liking the breathy sound at all; it's desperate...flustered...erotic.

"Let me move in," Kahlan presses forward.

"Oh you must really be out of it," Cara signals "no" to the proposal with a wave of her hands. Then leans back against the door frame in the next.

"Let me move in, and you can get another version of what freckled-face people are like. An up-close-and-personal version, " Kahlan breathes. Cara cocks her head. "Granted," Kahlan's voice suddenly hardens, "I am just one person and my personality can only be attributed to myself, but I can show you that we aren't all the devils you make us out to be. This will make you less prejudice, more objective, and therefore more open to socializing with 'people like me'."

Cara's eyes narrow.

"C'omn, you know it's not a good thing to have this hatred," Kahlan preaches. "This prejudice of yours... Surely that's not the person you want to be."

Cara stares blankly.

"What do you say?" Kahlan's eyebrows arch in anticipation. "Housemates?"

"I say," Cara stands straight, glowering, "you are the craziest, most ridiculous, self-absorbed woman I have ever met!" She squeezes the phone. "You can take your science project proposal and slam it up your ass! Because there is no way in hell that I am - "

Cara's words are cut off by Kahlan's lips pressed against hers. Soft and sensual, and amazingly intimate.

Cara doesn't know what to do. She just stands there, eyes wide, hand squeezing tightly around the phone. She does manage to see that Kahlan's eyes are closed, and that the wench is apparently enjoying this.

As quickly as it happened, Kahlan is pulling away. "Think about it," she speaks against Cara's lips, placing a small piece of paper in her free hand. And then she is moving toward her car.

Cara watches her leave. Not sure what the hell to make of what just happened. And then she scowls.

IIII

"Who does she think she is? Kissing me like that?" Cara paces back and forth in her living room. "I don't even know her! I've insulted her, treated her horribly, didn't even offer a great apology and yet she kisses me? What kind of woman does that?"

"I don't know but I want one," responds Adam.

Cara's friends — Adam, Nathan and Tanner — all sit on the couch before her. Exactly why they're here is vague to say the least, since all Cara did was call them up and complain about the crazy brunette who broke her window. She said she needed opinions on a matter closely related to it. Since they've been here, however, Cara has done most of the talking...while waving around some lone piece of paper.

Adam covers his mouth, clearly amused.

Nathan puffs on a cigar, his bright blond hair somewhat obscuring his eyes.

And Tanner hums, his scrawny fingers twirling his cartoon-like mustache.

"I have half a mind to march down to wherever the f**k it is she lives and kiss her back! How would she like that?" Cara practically stumps across the floor.

"Hmm. I'm guessing she'd love it," Nathan says with a chuckle Nathan, expertly maintaining his cigar between his lips.

"Uh, Cara, you have her address in your hand, babe," Tanner points out. "No need to wonder where she resides."

"No, you know what? I'm going to take her up on her offer. Force her to move in with me and show her just how insignificant she is in my life."

"You wouldn't actually be forcing her," Tanner again corrects the blonde.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Cara says, picking up the phone. "I need the address of a Ms. Kahlan Amnell."

"Don't even bother, man. She's clearly in her own world," Adam whispers to Tanner.

IIII

An hour and a half later, 6:50 PM, Adam, Nathan and Tanner are moving Kahlan's things into Cara's house. Cara stands outside by the door, directing them about. Kahlan stands inside.

"I can't believe we're doing this," grumbles Adam, a large box in his hands as he leads the others.

"Who moves a stranger into their home out of nowhere?" agrees Tanner.

"At least she's hot," mumbles Nathan, his cigar now replaced by a cigarette.

Once all of Kahlan's things have been moved into the extra bedroom upstairs — a few boxes left at the bottom — and the guys have left after trying to be the voices of reason, Cara shuts the door and turns to Kahlan. Cara is frowning; Kahlan is smiling.

Cara points a finger. "Don't think this means anything," she nearly spits. "I still don't like you, and I'm only doing this so you'll leave me the f**k alone once and for all."

Kahlan nods smugly.

"And, yeah, I could have called the police and reported you for harassment and stalking, but why do that when I can subject you to my own world of torture?" Cara has both hands on her hips now. "Trying to change me will be torture for you, you'll see," she assures, pointing again. "Calling the police would have only brought unwanted attention to me, and after the fire -," she stops, then turns to leave. Stops again.

Kahlan concludes this is quite difficult for the blond woman, but she can't manage to show enough compassion to stop smiling.

"You will get a job if you don't have one already." Cara's eyes lock fiercely on Kahlan's again. "I don't care how rich you are. You will be working to earn your stay here. I won't accept any free money from you either." She starts to head upstairs again, then descends back down, pointing at Kahlan once again. "And I'm going to do a background check on you. Make sure you're not as crazy as you seem. I'll also be locking my bedroom door at night, and quite possibly putting a dresser or two against it, so don't think you'll be able to murder me so easily."

Kahlan nearly bursts into laughter.

"Three weeks," Cara finally says. "I give you three weeks to change my mind about all you freckled-faced demons. And that's it."

"Three months," Kahlan proposes.

Cara just stares at her, as though appalled.

"Oh, c'omn, Cara. Three weeks is too short of a time to change the mind of anyone as stubborn as you."

Cara looks to the floor as though contemplating. "Three months then," she utters in acquiescence. "And no later."

"And no earlier," Kahlan stresses her intent.

"Whatever," Cara again starts to march up stairs. And just as it seems she will make it all the way up this time, Kahlan speaks:

"Hey, Cara." She moves playfully. "That must have been some kiss...to get you to reconsider my proposal."

Cara stops dead in her tracks, teeth grinding in frustration. She means to say something to counter the brunette's daring tongue, but can't think of a damn thing. Save kissing her again. Defeated, she continues her ascent upstairs.

Kahlan smiles wide, and when she hears a bedroom door slam, giggles and spins around like a silly school girl. She doesn't know what the hell she was thinking in suggesting that Cara let her move in, but it was the only thing she could think of that would allow her to see Cara as often as she wanted without being perceived as creepy. Well, okay, proposing to move in with Cara is just as creepy, Kahlan supposes, but she'd been left with no other choice. Cara had made it explicitly clear that she didn't want to see her again, and with as stubborn as the blonde is, she most definitely meant it. So speaking to Cara in terms of a dare, of bettering herself as a firefighter, seemed the most logical direction to take. And what better way to change your mind about an enemy than living with that enemy?

Kahlan bites on her bottom lip. Cara and her male buddies are not the only ones worried about her mental state. Kahlan has never gone this much out of her way to endear herself to a potential love interest. And Cara is a potential love interest, she decides. There's something in the way the firefighter looks at her that speaks of attraction. But then again, neither of them really like each other. So perhaps, for Kahlan, it's like her parents said: _You become infatuated with anyone who teases you enough and/or angers you immensely._

As Kahlan ponders this more deeply, though, while such a factor has driven the bulk of her attractions in the past, she's never fallen for anyone on that criteria alone. _Definitely not the same thing_, she concludes. But either way...Kahlan figures her parents wouldn't mind much this time. They always told her that if she's to "go all out for anything," then it should be for love. And love — true love — is what she figures she just may achieve with Cara. That is, if it's not too insane to think they already have it.

IIII

In the days following, Cara and Kahlan keep their distance. And though Kahlan would rather they didn't, jobs and school have more to say about that.

Cara has set Kahlan up at a mechanics job, where all she has to do is wear overalls, look pretty, and hand 'the real mechanics' the tools. Kahlan's not sure if Cara did this because it was the only job available in such a quick amount of time or if she just wanted to teach Kahlan a lesson, having never forgotten about her "butch women and cars" comment. But they had agreed that it's a fairly easy job with surprisingly decent pay. The only problem is trying to balance it and school at the same time. Class usually lasts from 8:30 AM to 11:30 PM. So Kahlan having to worry about "_two to three hours of study outside class for every hour spent in class_" certainly does not blend well with her 12-to-7 day job. Nor does it blend well with finding time to spend with Cara. At least Kahlan is well-versed in astronomy already and doesn't have to study as much as other students. If at all.

There's another reason she barely sees Cara anymore. Cara has been allowed back at work, and her work hours can range anywhere between "24 hours 'one day' on/'one day' off" to "24 on/48 off" to a "three days on/ four off" type of schedule. This is because the work of firefighters is very stressful and they need more than ten hours at home to leave it all behind. Cara does more than 'leave the work behind,' though. Once she's home and cleaned up, she's out the door and on to other business, leaving Kahlan behind and alone to study on the couch. When the blonde does happen to be 'off,' she spends the whole day with her buddies, presumably just kicking back with a nice cold beer in her hands and 'being one of the guys,' or so Kahlan imagines.

One day, Cara even finds the time to appear on a local talk show. Un-originally entitled "The fire at the 331 elevator building," Cara at first appears on the episode as reluctant to discuss the issue, but she eventually does. And it seems to help her bury the matter. Some of the men from the station even forgive her, separating Cara's actions from Starvos's and accepting that it was his choice to lead men in after her.

At the end of the week, 6:00 PM, Cara is about to head out again. It's one of her days off. But it is also one of Kahlan's, and well... the brunette has other plans.

"Where are you going?" she asks, sitting comfortably on the couch, an astronomy book in her hands, as Cara descend the stairs. Cara is wearing tight, black slacks and a white ruffle shirt with a V-cut, not much unlike the ruffle-bow blouse Kahlan wore the night she and Cara wound up on that hill. Topping it all off are a pair of masculine/feminine-like boots. And a whiff of Cara's cologne also permeates the air. Men's cologne. _ This must be what Cara means by 'androgyny_,' thinks Kahlan. The blonde is even wearing lipstick, something Kahlan has never seen her wear. And she must say, it quite suits her.

"On a date," Cara stops by the door. "Not that it's any of your business," she buttons up the end of her sleeves.

_A date. _Cara had recently told her about the fact that she's dating two people at the same time. And though their names have yet to be revealed, Kahlan knows that one is a man and the other is a woman. That much, Cara did reveal, having gone out with both at least once.

As she opens the door, Kahlan jumps off the couch, running to stand behind her.

"Wait!"

Cara turns to look back at the brunette, one eyebrow arching. "What?"

"I was hoping," Kahlan twiddles her numbs, book secured between her arms and chest, "that we could spend some time together tonight." A soft smile pulls at the corners of her lips. "C'omn, Cara. It's been a week already. I'm here to show you 'the other side,' remember? The opposite of what you so thoroughly believe about us 'dot-faced' people."

"Later," Cara shrugs, going out the door and leaving Kahlan to fall back against it in a huff.

IIII

When Cara enters the ballet room, she's somehow unprepared for the sight that welcomes her. Dahlia appears to be absolutely beaming, instructing a room of several girls ranging in ages 6-12. "Half bend at the knees, and it should be done to two counts," she says, showing just how it's done. "It is the basis of everything you do in ballet. You must hold your back straight and your shoulders straight and front." She demonstrates this gracefully. "It's like I told you a dozen times, your all must flow into the steps."

The girls seem to be doing just that — giving it their all to replicate Dahlia's moves. Cara sees a group of parents sitting at a section by the wall. Judging by a few of their impatient looks, it's obviously time for the girls to leave. But knowing of Dahlia's work ethic, what she has spoken to Cara about extensively, it is no wonder that she has yet to excuse the class. Not even in the hopes of being ready for her own date.

When Dahlia notices the blond, however, she immediately dismisses the class, saying, "Okay, that's enough for today." The girls rush to her with hugs and 'thank yous' before going off to their parents. Dahlia swirls back around to find Cara with a huge smile on her face. She saunters up to the gorgeous firefighter, and sighs, "Sorry about that. I didn't think it'd take so long." She intertwines her hands with Cara's. "A few of the girls started slacking and I had to remind them of the basics." She looks back at one of the students who almost slips on her way out.

"Don't worry about it. I admire your work ethic," Cara assures, leaning in to kiss Dahlia's neck, but Dahlia holds her off.

"I'm all sweaty." She says passively.

Cara looks up to see a parent or two eyeing them before pulling their children away. "Is that the real reason you don't want to kiss me?" The disappointment is evident on her face.

Dahlia catches a glimpse of the parents before she and Cara are suddenly alone. She turns back to the blonde. "Cara... You don't think I'm ashamed of this," she gestures between them. "Of us, do you?"

"I don't know. A lot of people aren't accepting of homosexuality, even in this day and age." Cara frowns.

"Well, I can assure you," Dahlia squeezes Cara's hands, eyes meeting her companion's in intensity. "I don't have a problem with other people knowing about this. I'm not shamed of my sexuality, Cara, but it's not something I just flaunt around either."

Cara looks off to the side, seemingly pondering that statement.

"Do you go around telling everyone you're gay or bi?" Dahlia tries to catch Cara's gaze.

"No. But I don't hide it either," she finally looks back at the woman.

"Well, neither do I," Dahlia assures. "And if those parents really wanted to dig into my history, if they haven't already, they'd find that I've very publicly campaigned for LGBT rights." She pulls Cara even closer to her. "But if you must know, I'm not fond of making out in front of children." A smile creeps across her face. "Now if we're talking about our children..."

That pulls a smile across Cara's lips.

"Now," Dahlia says, swinging Cara's arms, "how about you wait here while I go clean up? There's a shower down the hall." She moves to grab a hanging towel from a nearby pole.

"What about your car?"

"Now would I drive here today knowing you'd be picking me up?" Dahlia smiles wide before exiting.

IIII

"You've gotta be out of your mind, to allow a stranger into your home," states Dahlia, nodding to the waiter pouring a glassful of wine to her left. With the way the waiter keeps eyeing Cara, it's clear he knows who she is. He happily serves them their meals and then moves on.

Cara and Dahlia have arrived at a nice Japanese restaurant, courtesy Dahlia's purse. Cara doesn't know how much money Dahlia makes, or if she lives off her parents' like Kahlan, but she didn't need this. She would have been just fine going to the burger joint four miles from here. Dahlia, on the other hand, had other plans. Seeing as they'd gone to Taco Farm on their first date, the woman felt that their second should be "special" — that they should "step it up a bit." She proposed to take Cara some place she has never been. But as Cara looks around, she cannot help but be reminded that this is not a real Japanese restaurant. At least not what she'd call a real one. Sure, most of the food can be accurately termed "Japanese," as well as many of the employees, but something is missing. Cara's not sure what she was expecting, and she doesn't like to stereotype, but the atmosphere is a bit too artificial for her liking. The fireworks going on outside, post Fourth of July, aren't helping matters.

"So...this Kahlan woman, Dahlia digs into her lobster. " It was her idea to move in?"

"I just told you that it was," Cara grumbles, doing her best to scoop up Ramen noodles with chopsticks. It's definitely something she'll have to get used to.

"It's just...I can't believe that anyone would actually agree to it unless they like the person. Or feel sorry for the person." Dahlia's eyebrows lift in concern. "Do you feel sorry for her, Cara? Is she having some sort of financial trouble?"

Cara dips some wasabi into soy sauce. Then downs the glass of wine to her side, before focusing on the tight red dress adorning Dahlia's body. The straps are so thin, the article might as well be strapless. And Cara's not complaining. The length of the dress stops mid-thigh, and she would much rather be looking at those thighs than talking about Kahlan Amnell. "She basically dared me," Cara grumbles.

"And you can't pass up a dare?"

"She accused me of prejudice." Cara places the glass to the table a little too hard.

"Disliking people because of their freckles is prejudice."

"Look," Cara sighs. "She thinks I'm the problem, that she's some saint meant to improve 'awful' people like me. And I'm taking a stand to say that I am perfectly fine with how I am. I don't need changing. And as for financial difficulties, she is not without money, I guarantee you that," Cara huffs. "She claims she's trying to prune herself from her inheritance. I told her that as long as she's living with me, she will need to work. I then proceeded to get her job."

"So she's a rich girl then?" Dahlia cuts into a roll rather calmly.

Cara shrugs. _Aren't you?_ she wants to ask Dahlia. After all, she doesn't know many people involved with ballet. But then again, she only hangs around a certain group of men.

"Is she pretty?" Dahlia queries.

"I wouldn't know. She's not my type."

"Oh?"

Cara frowns. "Yes, 'oh.' If I don't like women with freckles, what makes you think I'd be attracted to them?" She sits back in her chair. "Why are we talking about this anyway? This night is supposed to be about us."

"You brought it up." Dahlia wipes delicately at her mouth, finally noticing the stressful lines plaguing Cara's features. "The way you're acting now. Is this about earlier? About my not kissing you in front of children?"

"No!" Cara says a little too eagerly. "Yes... I don't know," she looks down.

Dahlia is about to respond, when Cara cuts her off:

"It brought back memories of my parents," she sighs. "Let's just say they weren't very gay-friendly." Her gaze ventures off into an area of customers. "Of course...I didn't know that until they kicked me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Cara sees that more than a few people have noticed her, whispering among each other...no doubt about her infamous role in the fire at elevator building 331. "We'd better get going," Cara nods toward the people. After gulping down the rest of Dahlia's drink, she then gets up and heads for the door.

Dahlia delicately dabs at her mouth and quickly reaches into her purse. Throwing down the correct amount of cash to the table, she soon follows after her date.

IIII

At midnight, Cara and Dahlia sit in the car, outside Dahlia's home. Frustrated and a little unsure of what to say, they both stare straight ahead.

"Sorry about tonight," Cara breaks the silence. "And what a night it was... First an awkward dinner, then a crappy movie. The whole dinner-and-a-movie thing isn't what it used to be."

"It's fine, Cara." Dahlia turns to her, face one of understanding. "Besides, I think I quite understood the chipmunk holding the key to the safe."

Cara chuckles. "Yes, I suppose that was the endearing part of the film. The best part, if you ask me."

"Chipmunks do have a way of brightening one's day."

"Oh now you sound like Leo," Cara briefly giggles.

"Who?" Dahlia's interest is piqued.

"Never mind," Cara waves her off.

Dahlia turns to Cara fully, expression serious but relaxed. "Listen, Cara..." she touches a hand to the blond's arm. "I don't know what hardships you've been through, but believe me when I say I'd like to know." She pulls Cara's hand to her lips. "I'd like to know a lot more about you." She places a kiss to Cara's palm. "I mean, we've flirted, kissed, talked about children, and we act as though we've been dating for years." Another kiss to the fingers. "But this is only our second date, and I don't know nearly enough about you to start making wedding plans."

Cara's eyes focus on the way Dahlia is kissing her fingers, and this softens Cara's features immensely. "Dahlia, you kill me... I don't know what it is about you, but..."

Dahlia's kisses becomes more sensual.

"...I feel like I know you already," Cara finishes. "Like I don't have to tell you anything because you just understand."

"We do have similar personalities," Dahlia smiles.

"We do," Cara cups the other woman's cheek. "Even when it seems that we don't. And with the way I'm already willing to spend the rest of my life with you, I'd say we give a whole new meaning to the concept of 'U-haul lesbians'."

Dahlia laughs. In the next moment, she is moving closer. "I thought you were bisexual."

"Only a little," Cara can barely control her impulses as Dahlia places kisses behind her ear.

"Willing to spend the rest of your life with me, you say?" Dahlia kisses the firefighter's cheek. Then brow. "Care to show me how much?"

"Not at all," Cara whispers into the other woman's ear, quickly pulling her into her lap.

"Oh," Dahlia breathes heavily, her legs seemingly straddling Cara against their will.

Cara licks at Dahlia's throat, not wasting any time yanking on the straps to the woman's red dress. She sucks at her bosom, ready for more.

"No," Dahlia pulls back to look upon her soon-to-be lover. "Not there... Here," she glides Cara's hand under her dress, past her panties, and to her most intimate parts. "I'm heated for you."

Cara explores, watching Dahlia close her eyes and move slowly.

The woman is indeed heated. Very.

"I feel like I've known you all my life too, Cara," she breathes heavily.

And as she does, Cara feels that if Shota is right about her needing to choose one of the three individuals who landed on her doorstep, then the correct one must be this beautiful woman on top of her now.


	3. PART 2 of PART 2

**Note**: The harshest curse words have been bleeped out (mainly the F-word), since this is the PG-13/TV-14 version, and a few other words (including one or two from the intimacy talk) have been tamed just a bit. The uncensored version is at LiveJournal under the same title/same user name.

IIII

An hour later, Cara comes in through the front door, a slight smile on her face, completely oblivious to Kahlan leaping off the couch with astronomy book still in hand. Dahlia being right down the street sure as hell makes it a lot easier to get a good f**k any time she wants. Sniffing the other woman's scent on her fingers, she moves toward the stairs.

Kahlan sees Cara's expression change from one of unmistakable lust to one that is troubled, and watches the blond ascend the stairs slowly.

_That won't do_, thinks Kahlan, as she throws the book to the couch. She has been waiting all night for Cara to return and is not willing to just be ignored any longer. Upstairs in Cara's bedroom, she finds the blonde lying across the bed...eyes on the ceiling. "The view's a lot better outside," she says, leaning against the door frame.

Cara looks to Kahlan as though disturbed from something important, then back to the ceiling.

"How was your date?" the brunette presses.

Cara's reply is rigid. "Just because we're living together...doesn't mean that we're friends. It doesn't mean that I want to divulge my personal life to you."

"I take it that means you 'got lucky'," Kahlan smiles as she moves to plop down beside the blonde.

Cara is taken aback by the woman's brazenness, mouth opening and closing at the intruder. Kahlan is wearing a tight white T-shirt and tiny black shorts, and Cara suddenly feels awkward. There really isn't a reason that shorts should be that tiny. She scoots a little away and sits up against the headboard, eyes focusing on the brunette's very attractive feet instead.

Kahlan is lying on her side, hand propped to support her head, just staring the firefighter down.

Cara looks to her again, then straight ahead with a roll of her eyes, quickly folding her arms. "She didn't want to kiss me in public. Dahlia."

Kahlan's eyebrows arch in surprise. _Dahlia? So that's her name._

Cara doesn't bother to gauge the brunette's expression, but rather continues on, "She said it wasn't because she was ashamed, and I believe her. We were in front of children and the children's parents were there, and so it really wasn't a good time to be making out," Cara sighs. "It's just that it brought back unpleasant memories."

"What kind of memories?"

"How my parents were the greatest parents ever... Up until the point they found out that I had more than just a 'friendly feeling' for girls." There is a slight pause. "For one of my female friends in particular." Kahlan leans closer. Cara sinks further into the bed. "They caught us going at it on the living room floor a little past midnight," she says frustratedly, amazed by how the words are just rolling from her tongue in the presence of this woman. "They weren't supposed to be home for another hour. Something about a dinner party, late-night after party, whatever..." Cara shrugs. "Needless to say, they surprised us."

"And so your parents - "

"Kicked me out that night... Morning rather..." Cara sighs. "Whatever the time, I was 16 and on my own from that point on," her fingers flex. After a moment, she grumbles. "Well, I did have Adam and his parents, who took me in, but I was hardly ever there. Staying every now and then when I needed food and clothing, but there were also shelters for that and I didn't want to impose on his family. His parents of course threatened to turn my parents in for child neglect. Or whatever the fuck would stick. But I asserted that I was 'not a child' and had Adam swear up and down not to reveal much about my parents... You see, though Adam and I grew up together, his parents never really knew who I was before that day. I was just 'one of those neighborhood friends' of his. When I explained to them that calling the police would only get me sent to a foster family, that I was 'too old' for that and didn't want a new family," they relented, insisting that I live with them instead." A faint smile spreads across Cara's face. "I was getting a new family in them, whether I liked it or not, they said. There had also been significant discussion about the risk of harboring a minor. But their minds had already been set - I was better off with them."

Cara looks to her arms, eyes distant. "I grew up on religion, where I heard some teachings against homosexuality, but I had no idea that my parents would..." Her smile becomes hollow. "I guess we learn something new every day, huh?"

Kahlan's heart is breaking. She's heard of people turning their children away at the revelation that the child is gay or bisexual...transgender even, but she's never heard of it in such a personal way before. From one's own experience.

There's so much potential in Cara, and Kahlan cannot comprehend that it has been trampled on by people who dared to call themselves "parents."

"Cara," she touches a hand to the blonde's folded arms, looking up at her with as much sincerity as she can muster. "I can't begin to know what you - ," she stops, not wanting to come across as cliché. "Did you tell Dahlia any of this?"

"No," Cara appears to bristle at the question. "It happened, but it sounds outrageous that loving parents would -," she pauses.

_They weren't unconditionally loving_, Kahlan wants to say. She squeezes the other woman's arm. "And yet you told me. Why?"

Cara looks at her fast enough to cause whiplash. "I don't know."

Kahlan holds that gaze, and Cara elaborates, "I don't know why I'm informing you of these things." She shrugs off Kahlan's fingers caressing her hand.

Kahlan smiles. "Well, I was called 'Confessor' by my last boyfriend. He said I could get people to tell me anything."

"Confessor?" Cara arches an eyebrow. "I believe it," she turns back to stare at the wall.

"Why's that?"

"Because," Cara's eyes find hers once more, "you must have confessed me with some asinine oddity to get me to do something as stupid as moving you in here," she says exasperatedly. "Even my friends think it's stupid."

"But you don't?" Kahlan sits up, a bit intrigued.

"Of course I think it's stupid!" Cara gives an incredulous look, arms folding back against her chest. "I just called it stupid, didn't I? Even my girlfriend thinks it's stupid."

"You mean Dahlia," Kahlan's features struggle to stay supportive. "Dahlia's your girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," Cara looks off to the side, away from Kahlan. "But I think I want her to be. I've never been the girlfriend type, but," she focuses back on Kahlan. "I think if I had to choose 'the one', she'd be it."

Kahlan is shaken and looks away. Cara is confused as to why she even uttered the line. It's not as though she's ever been one to advocate 'true love and all that jazz.' But then it dawns on her — the elderly woman and her prediction. If Cara must really make a choice between the three strangers, then she is determined that it will indeed be her choice. Psychic be damned, no one will decide her fate for her. Not the old woman. Not fate itself.

"But you're dating another too," Kahlan regains her composure. More of a question than a statement.

"Leo," Cara confirms, nodding her head and again looking to the wall. "I'm keeping my options open. Trying to figure out which one I like more... Right now, I'm leaning more toward Dahlia."

There is silence again. Slightly awkward. But then...

"You know," Kahlan looks up, leaning in, which causes Cara to lean away, "we're a lot alike. You and I," she finishes. "We both go after what we want."

With the way Kahlan is looking at her, eyes hooded, lips pursed, Cara can swear there's a double meaning in that line.

But as quickly as she sees it, Kahlan is again bright-eyed and all smiles. "For example, look at this place." She looks around. "This is a pretty nice home. And with a firefighter budget, I'm wondering just how you afford it." Her gaze lands back on Cara, hands flexing. "You must have stopped at nothing until you got it."

Cara watches the woman for a bit, a little taken aback by her change in demeanor, as well as the minor change in subject. "If we're speaking American culture, only about 10 percent of firefighters get paid for what they do," Cara says matter of factly. "Those who do get paid average between $30,000 and $55,000 a year. I, however, am what they call a 'Top Level FireFighter.' I make 65,000 a year annually. Usually, we all have to go through so many years or so many steps before receiving top level pay, but I did well in my training, and, with Chief Gates looking after me, moved through the ranks before I knew it." Her gaze suddenly sweeps across the room. "As for this place, I move around from home to home quite often. It was pretty much given to me."

"I'm not understanding," Kahlan furrows her brows. "Are you saying you don't have to pay? And how is it people don't know where you live? Your fans - the media?"

"It's not like I'm some big-name celebrity. And, yes, I have to pay," Cara grins. "However, the little celebrity status I have obtained? It's afforded me the ability to strike deals with people willing to keep my whereabouts disclosed. I'm pretty sure some of the media know where I live; it's just that they aren't talking. And not many people have been interested in my personal life. Not enough to follow me home anyway. The ones who have...or rather 'do' try to follow me home are derailed each and every time... Take the 331 building controversy, for example. When the infamous fire happened, sure reporters were on the scene. But so were the men sworn to divert attention away from me. If you ever get a chance to really look at the fire station while I'm there, you'll see four or more suspicious-looking parked cars. Adam likes to call them 'the men in black'." Cara chuckles. "The few people who do know where I live... Some of my neighbors, for example? They only recently found out. Mostly, the days I met you and -" She pauses, contemplating her next words. "Three strangers showing up on my doorstep needing a spare tire after their cars break down? That's the most time I've ever spent in my front yard." Cara smiles.

Kahlan smiles when she sees Cara is doing the same. The blonde is really infectious this way, and it almost seems as though she's thinking fondly of their first meeting.

_If only_, Kahlan muses.

"Anyway, they were talked to by these men," Cara continues, "and, well... As you can see, I haven't had to move."

"Interesting," Kahlan's looks off to the side, hand under her chin. "What you're telling me sounds a little 'out there,' but -"

"- Oh believe me, it sounds 'out there' to me too," Cara attempts to stretch backward, "but, for some reason, I've generally been lucky in life. It's not like the men I told you about don't get paid, but - " Cara abruptly sits up, only now realizing that she cut Kahlan off. "What were you about to say?"

"Your neighbors," Kahlan looks up with a slight grin. "What you stated about them not talking to the media or anyone else about you... That explains why one of them was so eager to help me out." Cara makes a confused face. "I didn't even have to tell him what I was up to," Kahlan adds. "I didn't reveal who you are or anything like that; he just knew you lived here and said he wanted to help if it concerned you. That the two of you had talked a few times."

"What are you going on about?" Cara arches an eyebrow.

"Come on," Kahlan stands cheerfully, holding out a hand. Before she can even agree, Kahlan is pulling her along. Down the stairs and out the back door.

IIII

When Cara finds herself outside, the first thing she notices is the light emanating from Old Man Wilson's backyard. The second is the extended ladder leading up to the roof of her two-story home. She watches Kahlan ascend that ladder and decides the view isn't that bad as she follows.

Once they reach the roof, its steep parts are the least of Cara's worries, for right there in a relatively flat area is a large blanket, one powerful-looking telescope, and a bowl of chips and two wine glasses placed on top. Cara isn't liking this setup. At all.

"I don't like this," she speaks aloud, looking around for other oddities that may be adorning her roof. All of this is a bit too intimate for her. It seems very much like a date. And a date is not something she wishes to experience with Kahlan.

Kahlan laughs, standing beside the blanket. "Cara, relax. You said we could start spending time together, but then you had that date, and I already had this planned."

Cara's attention is brought to the side of the roof — towards that light again.

Kahlan hurries on, "You see, we missed the Fourth of July. I mean, we didn't celebrate it. And since I also wanted to show you things about our solar system, I figured I'd combine the two."

Over the ledge, Cara sees Old Man Wilson smiling up at her. His porch is illuminated by a strong lamplight, and as he kneels in his yard, lighter in hand, Cara can see several firecrackers projecting from his grassy lawn.

"Since under my arrangement here, I'm currently out of money," Kahlan joins Cara's side, "I figured I'd take my chances and ask around. Wilson immediately wanted to help because if I'm associated with you, I must be 'good people', he said."

Wilson waves up at the two.

Cara furrows her brows. She'd indeed talked with Wilson a few times, and he'd seemed to take an instant liking to her. The man is in his early 70s and mostly tends to the flowers enveloping parts of his front yard. He and Ms. Chilling often battle for the unofficial title of "Best flower garden."

That's mainly what Cara knows about him.

"I'd just finished setting all this up before you walked in. Wilson volunteered to take care of the firework display, and even offered a ladder. I found yours in the garage instead," Kahlan sways shyly. "I told him he didn't have to stay up all night, and that you'd likely be home around 1 or 2, but he still didn't mind. From what I gather, he's usually up this time of morning." Kahlan gestures toward the blanket, treats and telescope behind her, and smiles. "I'd say this is a neighborhood of secrets. One that protects others' secrets just as fiercely as they protect their own. That's why you haven't been found out yet."

"Should I go ahead and get started? " Wilson yells up at the two.

"Yes, go right ahead, Wilson," Kahlan yells back.

"I don't have time for this. It's late." Cara rolls her eyes and proceeds to head toward the ladder.

"Early morning, actually," Kahlan holds up a finger.

"Same difference," Cara is determined to leave.

"Cara, please." Kahlan clasps her hands in front of her. "If we're going to do this, break down these barriers of yours, then now's as good a time as any," she pauses, watching Cara turn back to face her. "I wouldn't have chosen this way of starting off if I didn't feel it was a good idea." Her lips quiver a bit. "Are you the only one who gets to call the shots?"

As the fireworks go overhead, the atmosphere around them changes and Kahlan suddenly looks more alluring than ever. "I..." Cara is at a loss for words.

Kahlan looks to the sky, the scattering of rainbow colors and the like. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's..." Cara shrugs. "I guess I can stay for a bit," she makes her way back toward Kahlan. "But I'm not eating those chips," she points. "There's no telling what critters have crawled in and out of that bowl since we've been upstairs."

Kahlan smiles. "Deal."

"And what's with the wine glasses? I see no wine."

"Ah," Kahlan walks to a shadowed part of the roof beside the blanket, pulling out a large bottle of water.

"Water?" Cara makes a disgusted face. "You're no fun."

"Water is good for you," Kahlan encourages, putting the bottle back down as Cara moves beside her.

"Whatever." The blonde plops down on the blanket. "So... Why are we out here? To watch the fireworks and stars?" She lies back, hands propped under her head.

"Partly," Kahlan sits beside her, lying back as well. The loud crackling of the firecrackers have sort of a calming effect. "But I want us to talk some more too. Get to know more about each other."

"Well, I've already told you my life story," Cara bops her feet together. "Both the night on that hill and just several minutes ago."

Kahlan nods." Yes, I suppose you did."

"So now you tell me about yourself," Cara looks to the brunette. "I know all about your love for and study of astronomy, how you were a photographer before that. But I don't know why you're scared of cabs, for example. Let's start there."

Kahlan had almost forgotten that she'd admitted her fear of cabs to Cara that first day they'd met. It's not like she goes around telling everyone about it, but there hadn't been any other way to voice why she had failed to call one that morning.

"When I was 6, I entered a taxi my parents had waved over for me," Kahlan starts. "They were going to enter the vehicle as well of course, but before they could, the driver - a man in his late forties or so - tried to drive off with only me in it." Cara becomes alarmed and sits up. "As my mom screamed... And, god, I'll never for that scream, Cara..." Kahlan inhales deeply, "...my dad chased the cab down. The man didn't get far because of traffic, and my dad was able to jump inside and pull me back out. I just remember he kept yelling 'What do you think you're doing? What do you think you're doing?' right before the man sped off."

Cara is watching Kahlan with bated breath. The brunette is trembling, and what color had tainted her already pale skin seems to be gone. Cara can't help but contrast that with the overhead firework display intermittently painting colors there. "Kahlan," she touches the woman's shoulder.

"It was later revealed - after he'd been caught of course - that he was a convicted child molester. How or why he'd gotten a hold of a taxi, when he wasn't even a taxi driver, no one knows." Kahlan pauses. "Perhaps," her nose crinkles slightly, "he'd been watching me all along."

"Kahlan," Cara says again, expression pained.

"I don't want to talk about it," Kahlan sits up, turning her back to the firefighter. "Let's talk about fun and interesting things for now," she stands, immediately turning to Cara to pull her up.

Cara collides flush against Kahlan, and Kahlan blushes. "The moon," the brunette smiles. "Go on, look at it," she gestures to the telescope before them.

Cara wants to object, wants to talk more about what upsets Kahlan. What pleases her. But decides to let that go for now, realizing that this obviously isn't the time.

As she looks through the telescope, a slight gasp escapes her mouth. Large craters reflect back at her so brilliantly that she might as well be standing in them. She's never seen the planet like this, except for history and science books at school. But then again, she wonders if it's even a planet.

"It's not a planet," Kahlan answers as though reading her mind. "At least...according to the International Astronomical Union," she moves closer to Cara's side. "It acts like a planet, though. It has a crust, a mantle and a core, and the rocks retrieved from the Apollo missions helped scientists understand that the formation process - forming internal layers, or 'differentiation' - happens on all planets."

Cara looks up at the brunette.

"The moon has a solid iron-rich inner core with a radius of 240 kilometers and a fluid outer core primarily made of liquid iron with a radius of roughly 300 kilometers."

Cara stands there watching Kahlan — this brilliant woman who could quite possibly tell her all the universes' secrets — and when the magic of the firecrackers ceases, the magic of Kahlan's words do not.

IIII

Later in the morning, sunlight pouring in through the window, Cara is in her boxers and T-shirt sitting on the bed...looking to the drawer beside her. She can hear Kahlan downstairs occasionally being quite loud on the phone, and her thoughts about the brunette are reeling: _ Who is she? Why is she always trying to spend time with me? Is it really all about wanting to "make me a better person"? And __ why am I so drawn to her? Could all of this really be due to some prophecy? _

Cara believes that in that drawer an inch way...lies the answers.

Inside, is the package from Shota. And there's only one reason Shota would leave a package behind for her. Cara knows it. Can feel it.

"Bullsh*t!" Cara rises to her feet, yanking open the drawer. "I make make my own damn destiny. Kahlan means nothing to me." She picks up the medium-sized brown envelope and rips it open. The tiny block from inside falls to the floor and unleashes a world of disorientation. Flashes of bright colors encircle the room, images of planets and universes far beyond understanding swirling about.

Cara falls back on her ass.

IIII

Kahlan paces near the sofa. "I know what I'm doing, father," she speaks irritably into the phone. "You don't have to worry about sending me money or anything like that. You and mother once said risking everything for love could never lead me wrong. Sure I don't know exactly what I'm actually risking here, aside from my own heart, but I am doing this for love. Believe that."

IIII

A holographic image of Shota hovers above the tiny block on the floor, the room continuing to alternate between various colors.

"Hello, child," Shota's voice resonates from the image. "I have left you with this message because I realize you may need further guidance...further explanation. In fact, I know that you will."

"Further explanation?" Cara remains on the floor watching. She knows any other person would have run for the hills by now, but she's never been the easily-frightened type.

"Seeing as I could not stay in your world, this message has been previously recorded. And there is not much time, so you must listen carefully: It always begins with a single being - the duplication and repetition in dimensions," Shota's voice intensifies. "Before you and all the others, there was a Cara Mason in a time long ago, in a land called D'Hara. And from this Cara, there emerged duplicates in other other dimensions...a part of other universes. These Caras, while as different from you in terms of occupation and somewhat in personality..."

Flashes of different Caras jump out at the firefighter — the Mord-Sith, a barbarian, a countess, a queen, a beggar, a thief, a race car driver, a prostitute, a stripper, a cowboy, a cop and a FBI agent, and even a dragon slayer followed by a zombie slayer (much to Nathan's credit).

Many more examples also display themselves.

Cara shakes her head. She's pretty sure she's seen a movie like this, called _The One_, with Jet Li.

"...all share the same soul as you," Shota's voice continues on. "Each and every duplicate in this world has an original - the core. The birth of the original begets another and another, and so on. This continues as long as time goes on. Time repeats itself even as modern dimensions exist. Originals may even be reincarnated into modern dimensions where a duplicate does not exist."

Cara frowns. What Shota is saying sounds like nothing more than riddles. But she remains silent and listens.

"If the original has a fairly good life, then so will the duplicates. If the original has a fairly depressing life, then so will the duplicates. Of course...the circumstances for each is drastically different, and there are also 'balances' to consider. Take your life, for example."

Cara sees images of her childhood; the child ages from infant to adult.

"The original Cara had an awful childhood."

When images of a young blond girl being tortured pop up, Cara cringes.

"Your childhood was not this awful, or awful at all, but your late adolescent years were met with much difficulty." Cara relives being discovered on the floor with a girl, and what transpired afterward. "The original Cara was also fairly lucky - in battle, in cheating death, in choosing trustworthy lovers. And you have been fairly lucky, have you not?"

Cara sees flashes of Adam's parents taking her in, flashes of being welcomed as a firefighter and quickly moving up the ranks, flashes of celebrity and men swearing to protect her.

"Would you be treated so specially if not for extraordinary reasons?"

Cara thinks of Old Man Wilson.

"I am as optimistic as the next, young one, but even luck and good deeds have their limits."

As Shota continues to speak, Cara's eyes land on the images of Dahlia, Leo and Kahlan enlarging and circling around her. Their clothing is from another era, all leather of some type.

"All duplicates share one soul," Shota repeats. "It is the fact that you share the original's soul that you feel so connected to these three individuals. The original knew these three - loved these three."

Cara tries to touch the images, but her hand goes right through them.

"As originals, they knew you - loved you."

Shota's hologram moves close. "But the love of only one of these individuals was able to save you from death, Cara Mason. It is what allowed me to cast the spell on you that I did."

"Saved from death?" Cara finally speaks, eyebrows furrowing.

"Because the original was saved by love," the hologram adds, "it is possible that you may be as well. "

"Be more specific!" Cara angers, attempting to hit at the image, but failing.

"It appears fate has judged that you did not suffer in your early life in equal proportion to what your original did. So to balance this out, fate has chosen death."

"I should die because I wasn't tortured enough?!" Cara leaps to her feet; the hologram moves back to hover above the tiny black block on the floor.

"This is why you must choose the one you loved above all others back when it all began," Shota's voice starts to fade. "Or rather...the one your original loved."

"Will you stop talking like that?!" Cara yells, hearing Kahlan abruptly call up after her. "Explain things more clearly."

"If you fail, all will be quite clear."

"I thought you said this was previously recorded! That you can't hear anything I say!"

"Choose wisely, Cara Mason. Either silently or aloud. The words 'I choose' will lead you, child."

And with that, the image fades into nothingness.

Cara growls, running swiftly to the black block and scooping it up. Before she can rip it apart, however, it disintegrates in her hands.

"Cara?" Kahlan stands in the doorway, trying to keep her eyes on Cara's face only when she sees that the blonde is barely dressed. "What's wrong?"

Cara just stares.

IIII

The man known as Peter Cantor places a handgun, sniper rifle, bullets and cartridges on the counter in front of the store clerk. Around them both, there exists a variety of assault rifles and pistols.

"Good choices," the clerk says, examining the pieces as Peter pulls out identification and a wad of cash. "Heckler & Koch USP, .45 ACP. And the Parker Hale Model 85... Wow," the clerk whistles. "Going to war?"

"I'd like to think so," Peter places his identification back into his pocket.

IIII

Kahlan sits in class, barely focusing on anything Mr. Gregory says.

Cara clouds her mind as usual these days. The stoic firefighter hadn't told her what'd been bothering her so much that she'd needed to scream. But then again, Kahlan hadn't expected her to. Kahlan's thoughts turn back to earlier in the morning, when it had seemed night was still upon them. Sure, Cara had opened up to her then, but it had been more about venting. Not because she truly felt like sharing anything. And one of the things she did share — choosing Dahlia if she had to choose any lover — bothers Kahlan immensely.

_Is Cara truly unaffected by the random and hurtful things she inflicts upon me? And why is she so un-attracted to me? Is it really just the freckles? Or am I not as pretty as others say that I am? _

Kahlan sighs.

_I'm not sure I understood this relationship. Maybe I should kiss her again - make my true feelings known? _

Kahlan is so caught up in her thoughts, that she inadvertently agrees to a date with David. But if Cara can date, why shouldn't she?

IIII

At the fire station, a group of men laugh at a table as they eat lunch. Cara has told them all about Shota's prediction, to the great discouragement of her buddies, as well as about the holographic imagery displayed to her earlier in the morning. Needless to say, it didn't go over well.

"C'omn, Cara," Adam bites into his hot dog, chuckling. "You expect us to believe that this Shota woman sent you a message à la the message Leia sent Obi-Wan Kenobi in _Star Wars_?"

"That's what I said, didn't I?" Cara sits in the middle of the male testosterone pack, teeth gritting.

The group again erupts into laughter.

"Car," Nathan drags the cigar from his mouth. Cara wants to stomp on that damn cigar. "You can't be angry with us. We told you not to tell anyone else this. We laughed enough at the original story. But this one?"

"Yeah," Tanner agrees, leaning back in his chair. "We could believe that some senile old woman spouted off nonsense about you choosing your true love and all. But now you sound just as crazy as she does. Seriously, a holographic message showing parallel universes to warn you of your impending doom? It's pretty far out there, Car."

"Very," Adam gets up from the table, grabbing his firefighter jacket.

Some of the other men get up as well, still chuckling and mocking her in "an old lady voice."

"The chief must have not given you enough time off," Adam squeezes her shoulder, clearly talking about the fire controversy.

A few feet away, Cara sees Chief Gates watching her, concern radiating from his eyes. It might even be pity.

Cara's jaw tightens.

IIII

Kahlan brings out a tray of tools to James Hunter, a mechanic she has come to like and respect a great deal this past week. They are at "Blazin Wheels," a mechanic shop not far from Cara's home. It's also the job Cara secured for her.

Hunter is in his mid 40s, handsome and a hard worker. He's always talking about the woman he loves — some hottie from Canada — and Kahlan finds it refreshing. She wishes more men were this open about love and relationships, and figures if she weren't so into Cara, she may very well have a shot with him.

So when she places the tray down beside the lovestruck male, she doesn't feel at all awkward asking him for advice on Cara. "Hunter," she says, watching him work halfway under a vehicle, "you've known Cara for years, right?"

"Yeah," his legs move inward and outward for a second.

"Then what is it that relaxes Cara most? How can I help her when her days are stressful?"

Hunter slides out from under the car, some sort of utensil Kahlan isn't familiar with in his hand and a face full of smut. He looks up at her, eyes curious. "You care about Cara, huh?"

Kahlan blushes, looking away as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, listen, kid," he sits up, grabbing a rag not far away and cleaning his hands. "As you may already know, Cara's not much for sharing feelings. Except for maybe when she's bored or needs to vent. And even when upset, she keeps it in most of the times," Hunter shakes his head in mock defeat. "I tell ya, if there's anyone who fits 'the silent type' perfectly, it's that girl."

"Don't I know it," Kahlan smiles, dragging her hands along her dusty pair of overalls as she sits. It's certainly not the type of clothing she ever thought she'd find herself in, but Cara had insisted she "look the part" as much as she owns it.

"But if there's one thing that woman can't hide, it's her love for other women, food...and hot baths." Hunter points just as Kahlan looks up at him, eyes wide.

"Food and hot baths?" Kahlan's eyebrows arch.

"You got it," Hunter grabs another tool from his tray. "Preferably a hot meal. You put that in front of her - a steaming pile of the good stuff and a hot bath to rest in afterward - though she generally prefers that the bath come first, and she'll be relaxed in no time. Maybe even relaxed enough to talk to you about anything." Hunter lies back down and goes back to work on the vehicle.

Kahlan smiles.

IIII

When Cara arrives home around 9 p.m., the first thing she notices is smoke pouring in from the kitchen as she enters through the front door. In the next moment, Kahlan — smelling like lavender and roses and wearing an apron — is running toward her. The brunette has on what can only be described as 'a very conservative outfit' — long sleeves and slacks with flowery decorations. But it's certainly tight in all the right places, and Cara briefly wonders if maybe she has been transported to some 60s do-over dimension.

"Hey, Cara." Kahlan moves up to her, all smiles. She quickly removes the blond firefighter's jacket. And with the amount of soot and other such residue tainting the woman's body, Kahlan can only imagine what an exhausting day she must have had. "There's a hot bath ready for you upstairs." She pulls back nervously. "And I was just making us dinner -"

"- What happened to my kitchen?" Cara scowls, looking past the brunette. After the ridicule and rigorous fires she has faced today, coming home and seeing this is the last thing she needed. At least Kahlan doesn't know about Shota's predictions so that she can mock Cara too.

Kahlan's eyes follow Cara's line of vision and her heart jumps. "Um... Up for ordering pizza?"

Cara growls and pushes past Kahlan, heading for her kitchen.

"Wait, Cara. It's not that bad, I swear." Kahlan rushes after her.

Cara stops in her tracks when she finds a big pot of ruined spaghetti sitting on the center counter. A little from there is a steaming stove. "You burnt spaghetti?" Cara is incredulous, looking from it to Kahlan. "You tried to bake spaghetti?" Her eyes zero in on the black mess.

Kahlan shrugs. "I heard it could be done."

Cara grabs a towel hanging from an overhead cabinet and moves to fan away the smoke coming from the stove. It's already turned off, so at least the brunette knew to do that much. "Good thing it didn't set off the fire alarm."

Kahlan nods. It would be ironic if Cara didn't have such an alarm. "I got it under control before it could get out of hand."

Cara stares for a moment. Then another... ...before erupting into giggles.

"Spaghetti isn't supposed...to be something...that you need 'get under control'," Cara chuckles in between words.

Kahlan is so caught off-guard by the sudden laughter, that she just stares. It's not often that she hears Cara laugh. In fact, they haven't been around each other enough for her to hear it more than once. And certainly not like this — a genuine, hefty chuckle.

Kahlan walks across the kitchen and is upon Cara in an instant. "You have a beautiful laugh," she says almost hoarsely, caressing Cara's cheek with the utmost care.

That seems to stop all the humor right there.

Cara stares into those ice-blue eyes, feeling pinned and strange. When Kahlan's fingers touched her face just moments ago, she'd felt a jolt of…_something._ There is a disturbing, light feeling in her chest, as if something has come loose, or is adrift. And so she takes a deep breath, trying to unseat it.

"I'm sorry for burning dinner," Kahlan breathes.

"I accept your apology." Cara smiles awkwardly, still feeling way too peculiar for her liking. "I think I'll be having that bath now." She walks away from Kahlan as swiftly as possible.

IIII

An hour later, and ten minutes after feasting on Chinese food, Cara and Kahlan sit on the couch watching television. The bath has done nothing to ease the tension between them. And Cara can feel Kahlan watching her.

Kahlan, who is on the far side opposite Cara wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties, stares unabashedly. Of course...the situation isn't made any easier by the fact that Cara has on nothing but boxers and a loose-fitting shirt.

_What should it matter? _Cara shrugs._We're both women. I'm not into her. She's not into me._

But it's annoying, and Cara can't take annoying._  
><em>

"What?" she growls as she turns to the other woman. "Why do you keep looking at me?"

"I'm curious about...something," Kahlan drags a finger along the couch, eyes still pinned to Cara's.

Cara is curious about something, too, like why Kahlan all of a sudden feels the need to cook for her and run her baths. Or how it seems she knows that these are things Cara enjoys immensely. It's true that everyone wants dinner, and most usually want a bath. But how many people love to take a hot bath right before a hot dinner, after a long day of work?

Still, Cara decides to drop that for now. "Curious about what?" she asks.

"How many women have you had sex with?"

Cara at first thinks she didn't hear the brunette correctly. "How many..."

"...Women have you had sex with?" Kahlan repeats.

"Too many to name," Cara says as though bored, grabbing a pillow to pull to her chest. "That goes for people in general."

There is silence.

And then...

"How about you? How many have you had sex with?" Cara sends the question right back at her.

"One," Kahlan taps her fingers on the sofa, "Two people total."

"Two people, and two years since you had sex?" Cara smirks. "Wow."

Kahlan's jaw tightens. "I only share my body with special people."

"Special people?" Cara's lips turn. "Okay. Whatever you need to tell yourself to make your depressing sex life seem less depressing."

Kahlan looks to the television screen. Some late-night dating show is on._ How fitting_, she thinks before turning back to the blond. "It wasn't always depressing, as you call it," her eyes appear to sparkle and Cara catches her breath. "Richard and I had a decent sex life."

"Richard?" Cara holds the pillow closer. "Your boyfriend?" She tries not to frown.

Why is Kahlan telling her this? And why is she so disturbed by the fact that Kahlan might have had a boyfriend?

"Yes," Kahlan says distantly. "But we grew apart. I wanted to explore the world. He wanted to settle down. Let's just say sex wasn't enough to keep us together."

There is a pause.

Cara senses the brunette has more to say. And she does:

"...Especially since I craved a woman's touch." Her eyes rake over Cara's exposed legs, and Cara's pulse speeds up. "That craving is more powerful than any attraction I've ever had for a man."

Another pause.

"Like I told you the day we met, 'mostly gay' best describes my sexual leanings."

"I remember," Cara feels extremely unsettled.

"After I came out to my parents, who took the news much better than yours, I met a woman soon after."

Cara's eyes narrow, "And did this woman satisfy your needs?"

Kahlan laughs, breaking some of the tension...but only by a little. "Not quite. You see, she was a one-night stand, Cara, something I never do. And the night ended with her fingers up my skirt."

Cara's skin feels like it's heating up. She simply gestures for Kahlan to continue as though unfazed.

Kahlan smiles. "She took care of my button well enough, but that was all."

Another pause.

"I wanted so much more."

Kahlan is staring at Cara with so much intensity, that Cara looks away. _What the f**k? Why the f**k am I looking away? Why am I acting like the old maid? It's just sex-talk._

"I wanted to feel her bare skin on my bare skin, her lips on my body, on specific parts," Kahlan continues. "All the things I've ever read about lesbian lovemaking."

"Wow," Cara clears her throat. "And here I thought you to be chaste."

"The reason I asked you how many women you've had sex with, Cara, is because I believe you may have intimacy issues."

Kahlan doesn't completely believe that, but if it helps her get closer to Cara, then so be it.

Cara's head snaps up so fast, it's a wonder it doesn't break off. Her eyes flash. "What did you say?"

"Intimacy issues," Kahlan repeats calmly, stretching out her legs. Cara's eyes briefly rest there.

"I don't have any such thing! Did you not hear me when I said I couldn't name the number of people I've bedded?"

"I did," Kahlan nearly recoils. She doesn't like the thought that anyone else has experienced Cara's body, and certainly not so many. _Has Cara even been tested for _-

"And, yes, I've been tested," Cara adds for good measure, seemingly having read Kahlan's mind.

"Sex doesn't necessarily mean intimacy, Cara. At least not in the way I'm speaking of. Just look at the way you practically ran out of the kitchen after I touched your face."

"Because I don't want you touching me!'

"So if it had been Dahlia -"

"- She could have done it all night long and I wouldn't have budged."

Kahlan looks off to the side, clearly rocked by that declaration.

There is a long moment of silence.

Until...

"I think you should kiss me again," Kahlan turns her eyes back on the other woman.

"Again? I didn't kiss you the first time!"

"Yes, but you liked it?"

"No... No, I did not like it."

"I'm a good kisser, Cara." Kahlan starts to move slowly across the couch. "Kissing can teach you all you need to know about intimacy."

"So now you want to make kissing a part of the 'make me a better person' deal?"

Cara cocks her head, just as Kahlan pulls her body over hers. "Why not?" Kahlan's arms spread at either side of Cara, sufficiently trapping her in place. "If it can make you a better person, then..." Her gaze finds Cara's plump lips.

If it was Kahlan's intention to make Cara feel like a trapped animal, then she's succeeded. The other woman is either crazy, deluded, or very turned on. Or worse — all three.

"Is the reason you don't want to kiss me...because you don't find me attractive?" Kahlan breathes on Cara. "What was it you told me once - that I'm ugly?" She looks into Cara's eyes for the answer. "Is that true, Cara? Do you find me ugly?"

"I..." Cara swallows hard.

_Think of something, woman! _

"Why...are you asking?" Cara fires back. "Do you find me attractive, Kahlan? Is that what getting this kiss is really about?"

Kahlan almost pulls away. She hadn't expected that question. And somehow admitting it while this close to Cara, while she still doesn't know if the blond finds her desirable at all, is too big a risk. "I'm trying to loosen you up a bit, Cara," she supplies. "Unnerve you in any way that I can, anything aside from sex." She pulls up further on the firefighter, but her body meets the pillow instead. "Don't confuse it for attraction."

Now Cara's eyes dart to Kahlan's lips. _You've unnerved me all right._ "So tonight was all a game?"

Kahlan doesn't answer.

"I see," Cara nods.

"What I stated tonight about my lovers is true," Kahlan arches a delicate eyebrow. "And even though I'm not terribly attracted to you, it's no reason to shy away from something that could make you more receptive to freckle-faced people, right?"

_More receptive in what way?_

"You might even become a better kisser."

"Dahlia seems to like my kissing just fine," Cara scowls.

Kahlan freezes, quite visibly shaken. Cara takes this time to ease out from under the woman. "Excuse me," are her last words before heading upstairs.

This is too much. It would have made more sense if Kahlan wanted to kiss her because she finds her attractive. But for it to all be a part of some ploy to "make her a better person" and "more intimate"? If Cara didn't consider the brunette bonkers before, she does now.

As she looks over her shoulder, she sees Kahlan still staring at her...intently.

With such a look as that, Cara feels her friends may have been right and that she likely has a case of "Single White Female" on her hands.

One can never go wrong with that film.


	4. PART 1 of PART 3

**Note:** As usual, the harshest curse words/"naughty words" have been bleeped out (mainly the F-word, which is a word I went overboard with for Part 3, though mainly attributed to Cara's personality), since this is the PG-13/TV-14 version. The uncensored version is at LiveJournal under the same title/same user name.

IIII

Another week passes with Cara and Kahlan barely talking to each other. But during that time, Kahlan manages to win over Cara's friends. Adam, Nathan and Tanner start to speak fondly of the brunette, whenever she smiles their way, whenever she offers them treats — candy, cookies, etc. — and whenever she comments on how good-looking they are.

_"Maybe she isn't psycho after all," "She sure seems fine to me," "Has she ever dressed like you aside from the occasional white T-Shirt and tank top?"_ the men have all commented to Cara.

Cara believes Kahlan is doing this on purpose — winning her friends over in order to win her over. And she certainly doesn't believe Kahlan has a true interest in this David Rictor fellow she's been dating for the past week. Kahlan has made it quite clear that she's not especially attracted to men, that it would take 'a special man' to catch her eye. And yet she's dating him? To Cara, Kahlan was either lying about her preferences, or she's just trying to appear as 'normal' as possible. Because if Kahlan is not obsessed with Cara and is instead consumed with lovey-dovey thoughts of 'David,' then how can she possibly fit into the "Single White Female" brand of crazy?

David isn't that special from what Cara can see. Other than the fact that he looks just like her. Seriously, his bright blond, shoulder-length hair and piercing green eyes might as well have been stolen from Cara. "Damn clone," she mutters under her breath in Nathan's backyard.

It's a bright day, and Nathan has invited a select group of friends over for a barbecue. There's barbecue chicken, barbecue ribs, barbecue steak, barbecue pork chops, and even barbecue hot dogs. The main courses only serve to remind Cara that Kahlan is a vegetarian, something she'd just find out last week, after the spaghetti incident. The woman's dietary choices really should have dawned on her that night they'd sat on the hill, where just minutes before...Kahlan had ordered a vegetarian sub. And the spaghetti the brunette had butchered? Cara hadn't noticed until afterward that it didn't consist of meat. Even now, Kahlan sits munching on some chips, smiling up at David every once in awhile.

Inevitably, Cara's thoughts turn back to her evening on the couch with Kahlan, where the other woman had divulged intimate details about her sex life and coaxed Cara to do the same. Kahlan's suggestion that they kiss to "loosen her up," "make her more intimate," "more receptive" made about as much sense as f**king her would have.

While Cara can see a bit of logic in how kissing Kahlan would desensitize the repugnant feelings she has for individuals of the 'freckled persuasion,' it's still mostly idiotic. And so was Kahlan saying that it wasn't about attraction. Cara distinctly recalls noticing the woman looking at her with hooded eyes and hitched breath. If Kahlan's not attracted to her, then why the reactions? A_ll just to get a rise out of me?_

The feelings that had raced through Cara when Kahlan spoke of having sex with others had been odd. Almost like losing a game. It was a painful, gut-wrenching feeling. And Cara convinces herself that focusing on Dahlia and Leo will help take that feeling away.

"This game isn't as easy as it looks, hun," Kahlan's date, David, leans over the chess board.

Cara wants to roll her eyes. _Obviously, not all aspiring astronomers are geniuses, _she smirks.

Cara and Kahlan are sitting opposite each other playing a game of chess; it's something the two discovered they have in common just two days ago. Cara was taught the game by watching various chess games on television and through videos while growing up; Kahlan was taught by her father.

Adam stands in the middle commentating, as though it's a professional match. He knows the game just as well as they do, and seems to breathe it, "I almost jumped when I saw the Knight sac on move 5 in the corner, but wasn't as excited when I saw it was 'just' a KG," he says, gulping down some beer.

Cara is white; Kahlan is black. Cara makes another move.

"You see? Before that, Cara sacrificed a knight on the fifth move. She's still down material, but has central control, piece development and some momentum," Adam carries on.

Beside Cara, Leo squeezes her shoulder in support. "You can do it, babe," he says. He's here at the party because not only had Cara realized she'd been neglecting him in favor of Dahlia, but there was no way she was going to let Kahlan bring a date without her bringing one too.

Kahlan makes another move, but Cara appears conflicted. "Stumped?" her voice cuts into Cara's thoughts.

Cara can hear David snickering and wants to throw him into the pool a little ways away. "I'm fine," she says. "You're the one about to lose."

"Kahlan's not going to lose!" David exclaims, his blond hair swinging as his head shakes disapproval. "I'm sure she's more advanced at the game than you are!"

Cara eyes the man with her most intimidating death glare yet. But seeing the green of his eyes, she's reminded of what a clone he really is. _Why the f**k is Kahlan with this guy?_ _Because he looks like me?_

More moves are made.

"Ouch!," Adam yells. "Cara made a critical mistake on the ninth move by pushing the e pawn prematurely. She should have made a rook move or castled long instead. Looks like Kahlan has taken over."

Kahlan's features contort, as she watches Cara stare down David. She figures people don't usually battle Cara, game or otherwise, without getting one hell of a fight in return. "David," she placates her date with a soft touch to his hand. "Cara has just as much experience playing chess as I do, and she's very smart. Smarter at a lot of things."

Cara's eyes meet Kahlan's in intensity. "Kahlan, you don't have to defend me. You are a goddamn genius, okay? A very alluring one, but a genius nevertheless." She looks to the board before glancing back up at Kahlan. "So maybe your date has a point."

David at first looks vindicated, but when Cara's choice of words sink in — "very alluring" — his features become unsettled.

The words don't go unnoticed by Leo either, who just squeezes Cara's shoulder tighter.

Kahlan just stares. She looks into Cara's eyes, but is unable to read anything there. Needless to say, she never expected Cara to so openly acknowledge anything positive about her. So now that the blonde has, what does it mean?

"Cara…" she says quietly, amazed and touched.

Cara grins, never breaking eye contact with the brunette.

Abruptly, David caresses Kahlan's arms, exchanging a concerned look with Leo. "The game, you two?" his tone is directed at the women.

Kahlan hates to admit it, because it signals just how little her date means to her, but she is annoyed by the interruption. She pries his hands away as gently as possible, and seeks out Cara's gaze again. But the other woman is focused back on the board, fingers drumming against the table.

Several minutes later, the game is over and Adam is summarizing the match. "Kahlan's fifteenth move was a mistake. She removed the blockade of the e pawn by the bishop. Cara immediately pushed the e pawn to free up the position and resume the attack. Then she sacrificed a rook on the next move, but Kahlan didn't take it. Finally, Cara sacked the queen, which led to some great tactics. She ended up with the bishop pair and an extra pawn against the rook. Kahlan was beat and resigned a few moves later. So even after sacrificing a knight on the fifth move of the game, making a critical mistake on the ninth move by pushing the e pawn prematurely, and failing to make a rook move or castled long instead, Cara persevered for an impressive comeback victory."

Kahlan couldn't care less for the stats. Her gaze is on her opponent, and has been for most of the match. "Cara, let's try out the pool," she says.

Cara gives a startled look. She'd been focused on the board. With the way they're skilled at the game, it could have lasted for hours, really.

"Yes, let's go to the pool." David agrees.

Kahlan gives the man an apologetic look before turning back to the blond. "I mean Cara and I."

"What?" David looks round-kicked.

"Cara and I need to talk alone. Girl time, you know?" She turns to stare up at David. "But of course...I'll be eager to get back to you."

David grins. "Well, then...let us guys let you women have your girl time. Anything, if it means we get you to ourselves afterward."

Cara's jaw clenches.

Leo kneels to her side. "You should go. David and I'll be fine, and it'll give us a chance to get to know each other." His eyes scan over the small get-together. "But beware," he looks off toward the pool, "certain male inhabitants."

Cara looks past Kahlan to see two men lounging in the pool with what appears to be girlfriends, or 'just dates.'

"So, Cara, you up for it?" Kahlan is already putting up her chess pieces. "I brought us bathing suits just in case."

Leo and David make appreciative faces.

"Well, swimming trunks and a top for you," Kahlan nods. "I know how you butch women are." A sly smile pulls across her lips.

Cara sniffs. Kahlan knows how much she hates being called 'butch,' but Cara will not take the wench's bait.

"Hey." Leo grabs a chip from the table. "My girl is not butch." His gaze drags along Cara's plaid shirt, the tie and slacks, and feels he may have to reconsider that. That Cara is in such warm clothing while everyone else is in tops and shorts or bikinis is suspect enough.

"Fine," Cara's eyes narrow. "Let's get in the pool."

"Should we change together?" Kahlan offers, putting away the last pieces of the board game.

"No!" Cara is quick with the answer. "I like my privacy."

Kahlan's not quite sure she believes that. Modesty doesn't exactly radiate from Cara, but... "If that's how you want it..."

"It is."

"Okay," grins Kahlan. "We should get changed then. One of us first maybe?"

"Nathan has two bathrooms," Cara waves her off. "But since one's in his bedroom, and he doesn't like anyone but random women in there..." Cara stands, looking to the table and then back to Kahlan. "Can I trust you with my beer?"

"Whaa?"

Cara cocks her head. "You like to drink behind me. I'm asking if you'll be doing that this time."

Kahlan blushes. She'd almost forgotten that she'd recently made a habit of drinking behind Cara. They haven't been talking much, and so whenever Cara leaves a half-filled beverage on the kitchen table, Kahlan often finishes the rest before washing the dishes, not even attempting to ask Cara if she was done with it.

"No, I'll leave your drink to you this time," Kahlan smiles.

"This time?" David scrunches his nose. "You do realize, Kahlan, that drinking behind someone is unsanitary... What was it you told me the other day? That it's like kissing the person, except dirtier?"

Leo eyes the brunette, and Kahlan's blush couldn't possibly get any deeper. She slips down further into her chair in a clumsy effort to distract from her reddening face. "I don't remember saying I think of it like that."

Cara's eyes are glowing with amusement. "Of course not, Kahlan. You're not that weird, I hope."

Kahlan frowns. Cara is deliberately teasing her. Before she can respond, the blond is walking away with Leo in arm.

"Kahlan?" David queries.

"Yes?" her voice sounds lost, unused.

"Is it me or do you and this Cara woman have a peculiar relationship?"

Kahlan swears she may pass out from embarrassment. "Well, as you know, we do live together, but only because I'm trying to better her. It doesn't get more peculiar than that."

IIII

Cara changes in the downstairs bathroom. After finding the clothing Kahlan gathered for her, she was off and changing in no time, Leo waiting outside the door.

Cara?" he taps against the wood.

"Yeah," she pulls a sports bra on before throwing on a T-shirt.

"Is there anything going on between you and Kahlan?"

"What?"

"You know, sexually."

"You sound paranoid, Leo," Cara smacks her teeth, trying to emphasize the ridiculousness of the statement.

"C'omn, Cara. You seriously expect me to believe you moved her in your home so that she could 'make you a better person' or whatever other nonsense?"

"No," Cara opens the door. "I expect you to believe that I couldn't pass up a dare," she pulls him into the room, shutting the door behind them. "You of all people should know that."

Leo frowns.

Cara sighs. "This dare was most insulting."

"But -"

"- But," she smiles provocatively, "don't you remember last week? I kinda thought that was insulting too." Her arms go around his neck.

Leo looks over Cara's swim trunks and shirt appreciatively. The woman's sports bar is visible through the fabric, and the very sight touches him to the core. "How could I not?" His arms go around her waist. "Trying to 'assist a man' in public? It isn't something he easily forgets."

Cara giggles into his his neck. "Assist? You can't even say 'handj*b,' you dork?"

Leo blushes, directing his gaze to the wall.

Cara laughs. "It's okay." She takes his face into her hands.

"Sorry," he says, "that I didn't let you get into the act." His features match his apologetic tone.

"We still have plenty of time left for that."

"I just don't want us to feel as though we have to rush into anything."

Cara kisses him then and his eyes flutter closed. "We already rushed into dating, didn't we? I think sex is the next logical step." She licks at his throat.

Leo can't help the involuntary shiver that results.

"But we can wait until you think the time is right." She kisses him again.

IIII

"Look at me, Kahlan," David's voice intensifies.

Kahlan's lips stretch thin and she turns to meet David's gaze. "What is it?"

"Do you honestly want to date me? Is that why I'm here? Or is it..." His green eyes are soft, vulnerable.

What can she say that won't make her seem like a horrible person? That her true interest is Cara, and that she's only dating someone else because of availability? That dating David might make Cara jealous enough to want her?

"I obviously like you, David," she smiles. "There's no reason not to."

He grabs Cara's seat, pulls it closer and sits so that he's face to face with her. "Is that so? And what do you like about me?"

_Straight men and their insecurities_, Kahlan nearly curses under her breath._ They can be as sensitive as women sometimes._ "You're very nice, David. And you're handsome, and - "

David kisses her without warning, and though his tongue is warm and gentle against her own, the experience is nowhere close to the level of excitement she felt when forcing a kiss on Cara. His lips are thinner, rougher. While Cara's are fuller...softer..._wetter_. Just the thought of that sends a sudden flood of arousal throughout Kahlan's body.

But a movement in her peripheral vision suddenly catches her attention, and she glances to see that it's Cara staring at her.

"Oh!" She yanks away from David as fast as possible.

"What's wrong?" his brow furrows.

Cara returns to the table, with Leo at her side, and the expression on her face is, as usual, unreadable.

"Nothing," Kahlan smiles up at Cara.

But David's gaze is also on the blond woman, and he is not stupid. Kahlan stopped kissing him as soon as that bitch returned.

"Excuse the intrusion," Cara stares.

All types of awkwardness pass over the group.

IIII

Kahlan hugs Cara close for what has to be the third time since they've been in the pool. But this time, she whispers into her ear. "He kissed me," she says. "It's not like I kissed him."

_Why are you explaining yourself to me? _Cara wants to whisper back, but remains silent. Besides, she's far too distracted by the press of Kahlan's flesh against her back. The brunette has on a stunning red bikini, and Cara's minds goes back to Dahlia also wearing red the night they first had sex.

"Cara! Live a little!" Leo shouts some feet away standing beside David.

"What he said," Nathan stands in the pool sandwiched between a buxom blonde and Adam. Tanner couldn't make it to the cookout, and so Nathan is determined that not another person 'miss out on the fun.' His gaze settles on the way Kahlan's arms are wrapped around Cara's shoulders.

"Cara's fine, Nathan," Kahlan smiles innocently at him. "How about you? Need your daily cigar? Or is it a cigarette these days? I just can't keep up with all the chain smoking."

"Stop giving me a hard time, Kahlan," Nathan flicks some water at her. "I know smoking is f**king bad for me. I get it. You don't need to preach every damn time."

"If you say so," she smirks.

"And, anyway, what are you doing all over Cara? Didn't you bring a date? Your boyfriend over there?" he nods behind him.

Kahlan feels Cara's shoulders tense under her arms. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just dating." Her eyes venture over to where he is watching her intensely. "As for Cara here," she says, hugging Cara just a little bit closer, gaze settling on the woman's pulse point, "I should be doing this. It's my duty to make sure Cara's less uneasy about us freckled-faced folk."

Nathan narrows his eyes; Kahlan splashes him with water in turn; Adam shakes his head.

IIII

"Think we're being used?" Leo nods at the sight of Kahlan tightly embracing Cara.

"Seems like," David folds his arms across his chest. "Kahlan told she was into women, but..."

"...Cara doesn't seem to be her type?" Leo supplies.

"Exactly." His gaze settles on his own chest, "But what does that say about me? It hasn't exactly gone unnoticed that we look alike... Me and Cara."

"Good point," Leo briefly observes.

"Still... If my still being here is any indication, I don't plan on letting Kahlan go any time soon. Not without a fight."

"Ditto for me and Cara," Leo nods.

IIII

"If you must know, Nathan, Cara and I were supposed to be having a private talk. But then you boys - "

"- I never can pass up a chance at seeing Cara in swim trunks," Adam laughs. "What's wrong, Car? No bathing suit manly enough?"

Cara scowls.

Nathan waves a hand. "There, there. We both know you're all woman. It's just...you could make an effort to femme it up every now and then. And by that, I don't mean the the occasional androgynous bit."

"F**k off," Cara scoffs.

She's about to leave, when — as though confiding some dirty little secret — Kahlan speaks into her ear, "I happen to think they fit you nicely. I mean, I can see that your ass is firm and everything."

Kahlan feels Cara shiver slightly, and she almost laughs. She lies her face against the side of the blonde's neck, yawning. "I guess the boys can come over. Our dates, I mean." Her lips move against Cara's neck.

Cara's not bothered by this closeness. _Not at all_, she tells herself. It's just Kahlan. Freckled-faced, annoying Kahlan. Trying to get a rise out of her. This is a test, and the only reason Cara has yet to remove herself from Kahlan's orbit is because it is a test she intends to pass.

Nathan moves to pull them apart. "If your boyfriends can come over now, then you might want to stop this."

"Why?" pouts Kahlan. "It's very innocent and Cara's warm to the touch," she tightens her arms around her.

"I'm sure she is," Adam grins.

"Hey, guys," Nathan calls out over his shoulder in the direction of Leo and David. "The girls said you can come over now."

In lightning speed, they are in the pool, pulling their respective ladies to them.

Cara and Kahlan hold eye contact.

IIII

Nathan watches Kahlan and David some distance away preparing to go, Cara watching beside him. Leo is inside getting some food for the road, and Nathan is worried about his friend. She currently sports a hard-core blush to her face, and seems entranced. "You'd better be careful, Cara." He rubs at the blond stubble marking his chin. "If you want her, then just be with her already. Don't play this game where someone's bound to get hurt."

Cara seems to snap out of her daze, briefly glancing the man's way before focusing back on Kahlan. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't," Nathan lets out a sarcastic sigh.

"Let it go, Nathan," Adam interrupts, coming to stand beside the two. "Don't scream 'fire' where there isn't one."

"Where there isn't one?" Nathan's tempted to pop Adam on the back of the head. "Anyone with two eyes can see they're hot for each other."

"You're seeing things then," Cara shrugs. "I," she points ahead toward Kahlan, "am not hot for that."

"Oh no?" Nathan leans closer. "Then why are you eyeing her ass?"

Cara's jaw tightens.

"Okay, that's enough," Adam pulls Nathan off to the side.

Once they're finally out of Cara's earshot, he lays into his friend, "Will you back off?" he whispers.

"For what? I'm trying to be a damn friend here. What the hell are you trying to be?"

"I'm trying to be a friend, too." He looks to Cara. "Can't you see what Kahlan's game is? She's slowly working her way into Cara's heart with subtle touches and not-so-subtle touches. She knows she's an attractive woman, and Cara is not blind. If she can just get Cara to admit to their mutual attraction, then she's won. Cara no longer detests people with a few freckles on their face. They live happily ever after. The end."

"You really think it's that simple? Racist white guys date outside their 'race' all the time, and it doesn't make them any less racist."

"Yeah, but -"

"- And you really think Kahlan's trying to improve Cara as a person?"

"Well..." Adam looks ahead at Cara watching Kahlan and David hug. "Yeah, I think so."

Nathan's line of vision follows Adam's.

"But you know how stubborn Cara is," Adam smirks. "There's no way that simply telling her to be with Kahlan is going to work." He watches the blond again. "So...I say we let Kahlan handle this."

"Eh..."

"Sure, one or two people may get hurt in the process, but again...with how hard-headed Cara is...that's bound to happen anyway, right?"

Nathan looks from Adam back to his female friend and sighs. "I'm starting to worry if maybe that old lady is right."

IIII

Later, 9 p.m., Cara finds herself in Leo's home being pushed up against the wall of his living room. "I thought you said you wanted to get to know each other better." Cara pulls her tongue away from his.

"About that," he says, kissing her nose, "doesn't it feel like we already know each other? I mean, longer than just a few weeks?"

"Which..." Cara starts to unbutton his shirt "...is exactly what I've been telling you." She becomes frustrated and rips open the fabric. "But you said 'not by much,' remember?"

"About that, too..." Leo pulls Cara's shirt over her head. "Forget I said it." He lifts her, and her legs instantly wrap around his waist. And as they move to his bedroom, kissing and passionately grasping at flesh, Cara can't help but think of Shota and what she saw of the hologram that day.

IIII

When Cara and Leo are exhausted from hours of lovemaking, he interlocks his fingers with hers. "Cara?" he asks, using his free hand to swipe a lock of blond hair to the side.

"Mmmm," is her only reply.

"I want you to know that no matter any other person you're interested in, I'm going to fight for you. Until the day you tell me not to. Because I believe in this relationship."

The air in the room is suddenly sparse, and Cara focuses on the ceiling.

"I mean it," Leo adds. "Whether it's Kahlan or -"

"- I thought I told you I'm not interested in Kahlan."

"I'm just speaking in general." Leo smiles. "Example only," he shrugs.

Cara peeps at him from the corners of her eyes, indicating that she doesn't quite believe that, but focuses back on the ceiling.

Leo snuggles closer. "What are you thinking?"

Cara laughs, "I thought the woman is supposed to ask that."

"Then ask it." Leo stretches back with a grin, placing his arms under his head.

Cara bumps his shoulder playfully. "If you must know, I was thinking of how well-endowed you are. It's been some time since I had a man that big in -," she catches herself, realizing that Starvos was just as 'blessed' in that part of his anatomy.

Her heart jumps, and her mind floods with memories. All this time, she has been completely shutting out her feelings for Starvos, immediately flirting and becoming intimate with others as though he never existed.

_I suck_, she closes her eyes and fights back the tears threatening to build there.

"There is someone else," she turns to Leo. "But it's not Kahlan."

"Who?" Leo sits up again, just as much interest as there is concern marking his features.

And Cara tells him of Tony Starvos — the man she made love to nearly every night, the man she joked with, celebrated with, the man she told intimate details to, the man she adored.

And she tells him of Dahlia.

IIII

Kahlan exits the car and grins to herself in the dimly lit area. She hasn't seen Cara since yesterday's barbecue, and the blonde just called her two hours ago, inviting her to dinner. Kahlan can only consider the offer 'peculiar,' considering that Cara hasn't exactly made her distaste for Kahlan secret.

It's not a restaurant Kahlan is familiar with, but then again...she's not familiar with any restaurant in New York...except for the various fast food chains found all over any American city.

Kahlan is excited, there's no way around that. Just the thought that her antics during their time in the pool may have had a profound effect on Cara has her practically skipping to the restaurant door. After all, there's definitely reason enough to believe that it was a 'good effect.'

Looking down at what she hopes is an elegant blue dress fitting of her designer gray stilettos, she runs a hand through her wavy locks and stands straight.

_What's that saying? It's now or never?_

As she enters and searches for Cara, she immediately spots her and starts to call out, but just as quickly halts in place. Next to Cara is a slender, attractive light-haired woman. _That must be Dahlia_, she thinks. _Either that, or Cara is enjoying the company of yet another suitor._ The other woman and Cara are apparently engaged in stimulating conversation. If Kahlan were to call out right now, Cara would barely notice, she concludes.

The blonde is wearing a nice pant suit with high heels, while her date shines in a simple black dinner dress and matching flats.

But Kahlan is no coward, and so she resolves to face this head-on. Taking in a deep breath, she heads for the table.

Cara sees her instantly, standing with a sparkle in her eyes. "Kahlan... You came." She at first appears stunned, but a smile soon overtakes her features. A smile Kahlan is blinded by. "I want you to meet Dahlia," she gestures toward the seated woman. "I figured...since people seem to believe that you and I are an item...that it's best we clear things up."

Cara means it. After introducing Leo and Dahlia to each other earlier today, she knew she had to do the same with Dahlia and Kahlan. Leo and Dahlia had taken to each other quite well. As as well as could be expected under such circumstances, even going so far as to joke about who is better suited for Cara. But while Dahlia feigned acceptance of Cara dating multiple people, Cara could tell that the other woman was hurt by it. After all, it was Cara who had said she could see herself spending the rest of her life with Dahlia. So for her to say that...while dating someone else? It stung Dahlia, Cara knew.

Just like she knows it's Kahlan Dahlia is worried about most.

Kahlan's jaw clenches. Caught off-guard and infuriated, she can barely look at Cara. Cara is looking from her and back to Dahlia again, as if she expects her to say, 'She's a keeper. Be happy.'

"I don't see what needs to be cleared up." Kahlan shakes her head, taking a seat when Cara pulls out one for her. "Gossip is gossip, and Cara and I are just housemates." Her lips purse. "She'd date a donkey before she'd date me."

Cara just stares. If she heard anger in Kahlan's voice just now, she's obviously chosen to ignore it. She reclaims her seat across from Dahlia. "Kahlan may have a point there," she grins. "But I think it would be best for all of us if Dahlia better understood our arrangement." Her eyes blaze into Kahlan's. "You know...your side of things."

Dahlia smirks. "It's nice to meet you, Kahlan."

Cara looks to her date, satisfied that someone has taken the initiative to move the conversation along."

"You're very beautiful," Dahlia continues. "It's difficult to believe that Cara finds you so unattractive," she takes a sip of wine, and her gaze is like a viper's peering over the glass.

Kahlan wants to strangle the woman. "You're very pretty, too," she smiles instead.

Cara coughs. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Dahlia turns back to Cara, "So...I hear you're trying to cure Cara of her freckle-phobia?" Her hand moves affectionately across Cara's. "I have freckles on parts of my body, too. But Cara doesn't seem to mind those."

And with that, Cara groans, looking down with her free hand to her brow. _I've been outed, _she groans again.

Kahlan tries to hide the sting from her features. She'd asked Cara if the problem was only freckles on the face and not elsewhere on the body. And now she has her answer.

She glares Cara's way, willing the woman to notice her irritation, but soon decides she can't bear this any longer. "There you have it." She rises to her feet. "Not much more to say, really. Cara hates freckles on the face, and I offered to help 'cure' her of that." Kahlan forces a smile. "I'm not trying to steal your girlfriend, Dahlia. There'd first need to be mutual attraction for that to happen."

Kahlan doesn't wait to witness their alarmed expressions as she jets from the table and heads for the exit. She feels broken inside and can't breathe, and her heart is hammering in her ears as she makes her way to the parking lot, thoughts running rampant: _There's no other way to explain it. Cara invited me here to...to humiliate me? _

"Kahlan!" Cara's voice barely registers behind her.

The brunette stops, but doesn't dare turn around. "What were you expecting, asking me here, Cara?"

"I…I just thought you two should meet. And I wanted Dahlia to know there's nothing between us." Cara's tone is strained.

"Why? Doesn't she believe you when you say it to her?" Kahlan turns to the blonde then, tears streaming down her face. "Or don't you say it to her?"

Cara feels as though she's been sucker punched — to hear those words and to see Kahlan pain-stricken like this.

Now that she thinks about it, though she's told Dahlia she doesn't find Kahlan attractive, she never once told the woman that there's "nothing between them." Before she can answer, though, she sees Dahlia in her peripheral vision exiting the restaurant.

"Why are you so upset?" she settles for questioning instead.

"If you don't understand why without me telling you," Kahlan sneers, "then you really are thick-headed." She turns to stick keys into her car door.

Cara growls, "You're so damn dramatic, Kahlan. Couldn't you just meet the woman without being a complete bitch about it?"

"I was the bitch? I was?!" Kahlan spins back to the blonde, eyes going dark with something that makes Cara take a step back. "You're the one who invited me to a cozy little restaurant without clarifying, making me think it'd just be the two of us, and then -"

"- You didn't honestly think I was inviting you on a date, did you?" Cara takes a step closer. Whatever it was in Kahlan's eyes before is now gone.

"And then she was all snide and rude!" Kahlan ignores Cara's question. "Saying how unattractive you find me."

"Because it's true!" Cara fires back.

Kahlan almost slaps her then. She somehow manages to refrain, however, upturning her nose. "l'll be going now." She opens her car door with a forceful yank. "I guess that kiss we shared really was nothing."

Cara sees Dahlia finally approaching them. The woman had been standing by the doorway.

Cara feels the most helpless she's felt since the 331 fire, watching Kahlan rip out of the parking lot and seemingly out of her life.

When she finally feels the warm presence of her lover behind her, her head is bowed when she speaks. "Dahlia..."

"Save it, Cara." The light-haired woman moves in front of her. "I heard enough to formulate a well-informed opinion that there's a lot more going on between you two than you're obviously willing to admit." She starts to dig into her purse. "You brought me here to show me that I was wrong about why you could have possibly moved a strange woman into your home." She digs harder. "Seems you proved just the opposite of that."

"It's not. I don't..." Cara's eyes are having difficulty meeting Dahlia's and she's pretty sure she just may be suffering from a panic attack.

_Kahlan can't be the one. She isn't. I won't let her be. _

_"_Why else would you need to bring her here to 'confirm to me how un-attracted to her' you are?"

"I felt you two you should meet," but even as Cara says it, it sounds lame/empty to her. "I mean... I knew you had to meet," her eyes finally lock onto Dahlia's. "You sounded so insecure, and I needed you to know that she... She..."

"...She," Dahlia locates her cell phone and pulls it from her purse, "is something you need to work out." Her fingers start dialing. "I was willing to share you with Leo because I knew... Well, I knew," a lone tear runs down her cheek, "that I could win against him. But with her..."

Dahlia points in the direction Kahlan sped off in, and Cara's gaze briefly follows.

"Get back to me when you have it all figured out," Dahlia simply turns away, speaking into the phone. "Yes, I need a cab," her voice fades out as she heads back toward the restaurant.

And Cara is left facing the real possibility that Kahlan may have more than just 'charitable' interest in her.

IIII

In the morning, Cara, dressed in her firefighter attire, stops to lean against the door frame of Kahlan's bedroom. The brunette is turned on her side, away from Cara, wearing her usual bedtime-wear — a spaghetti-strap top and panties — and Cara rolls her eyes. This is going to be harder than she thought. _Can't the woman ever use covers?_

At least Cara knows the bitch is awake. She's always awake this time of morning — 7a.m. and "looking to scram," she always says — usually excited about some topic she'll be studying in class for the day.

Cara bites her bottom lip, thinking about Dahlia's comments from the night before:_ ...there's a lot more going on between you two than you're obviously willing to admit. _

Though Cara had seemingly been unaware of this fact, it appears to be staring her right in the face now. She's unsure of how to broach this subject, but she knows she has to try. "I thought we should talk before leaving for our respective duties today," she starts. "About last night."

"Nothing to talk about," Kahlan drags her fingers alongside the mattress.

"Oh no?" Cara moves into the room. "People seem to think there's something going on between us, other than a teacher-student type of relationship. And with the way you acted last night, it was almost like..."

"Like what?" Kahlan rolls over to stare as the blonde approaches.

"Like they are right and you have feelings for me," Cara stops to leer over the woman.

Kahlan arches a brow. "And what about your feelings?"

"This isn't about me, Kahlan. Why'd you act like that last night?"

"Why'd you?!" Kahlan jets up into a sitting position, face turning sour. "You couldn't just let me know that I'd be meeting your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Could have fooled me," Kahlan frowns. "You kiss her, date her, f**k her. Say she's someone you could spend the rest of your life with. Sounds like a girlfriend to me. And let's not forget your precious Leo."

"And what about you and David? You two seem pretty damn cozy. Or are you forgetting?"

Kahlan scoffs. "Kissing David is horrible. I think about you every time he does it. You two look enough alike that it couldn't hurt to try." She bursts into slightly crazed, hysterical laughter, hiding her face in her hands. "I don't know what I'm saying. What I'm even doing here anymore."

Cara is motionless and confused. A sudden urge comes over her, telling her to hold Kahlan. But she knows that would only invite misplaced affection from the other woman. Just seeing how Kahlan is acting now, it's hard to doubt that the brunette regards her romantically.

"You feel connected to me...like you've known me all your life?" Cara suddenly feels compelled to ask this, even surprising herself.

With this type of connection being the main draw between herself, Dahlia and Leo, she has to know if Kahlan feels it too. What she's felt since the day they met, but has never admitted until now.

Kahlan's mouth curves into a strange grin, though keeping the upper part of her face hidden. "Of course I do. It's the reason I insisted on taking you out to breakfast that first day, remember? The reason I couldn't just let you go. The reason I insisted you let me move in." She wipes at her face, a soft laugh escaping. "Seriously, Cara, why else would a person be so persistent on spending time with a total stranger?"

This is the exact opposite of everything Kahlan has told her about their connection. Heart thumping loudly in her chest, she cautiously takes a seat beside the woman. "And making me a better person?"

Cara reaches out to lightly rest her hand on the back of Kahlan's exposed neck. She knows that such a touch is provocative and dangerous, but she has to know everything. All of it.

Kahlan shivers. "That had something to do with it, yes...but mostly... I just... I wanted you to stop being so ridiculous so that you'd start liking me." Kahlan laughs bitterly, "But it turns out that you can like people with freckles just fine. It's when they have freckles on the face, that you freak out."

"So you did all of this - chase after me, move in with me - because you want to date me?" It sounds crazy, but Cara actually understands. Can feel the spark between them.

_It's like Shota said._

Kahlan's voice is a whisper. "I just want you...around."

Cara moves her fingers in a stroking motion where they rest on Kahlan's neck. _What in the hell am I doing? _"And?" is all that manages to escape her lips.

Kahlan shivers again and suddenly lifts her head, showing Cara frightened and longing eyes. "I want you to..."

"You want me to what?" Cara leans closer, feeling drawn by something captivating in the brunette eyes.

Kahlan closes those eyes, lips trembling, as though she's trying to save herself from being confronted by something, or shut something out. "Cara...I want to confess everything to you, I do...but I don't think it's wise... You don't feel the same way, and it'll only make things more awkward."

Kahlan's brows are drawn down in what appears to Cara to be torment.

_She's in pain…I've caused this. _

"Kahlan...," Cara whispers.

Without quite realizing it, Cara finds her lips pressed to Kahlan's, her hands cupping the other woman's face reverently.

Kahlan's eyes go wide, staring into hers.

Cara's inner voice is screaming at her, asking her what the f**k she is doing. She's not supposed to be kissing Kahlan. Not Kahlan Amnell — the enemy — the one who would have her forget all reason and leave Dahlia behind.

But when they are like this, embraced like this, Cara's heart feels whole. More whole than it has ever felt with Dahlia or Leo.

Kahlan gasps into her mouth, startled eyes sliding shut, hands moving up to hover near Cara's face before finally sliding into her hair.

Cara closes her eyes tightly at the feeling, Kahlan's hands in her hair making her scalp and entire body tingle alarmingly. She leans back until she is lying down, pulling Kahlan with her, and — wrapping her arms around the woman — she realizes and acknowledges briefly in the back of her mind that this feels right.

Kahlan untangles herself, breathing hard, cheeks flushed. "Cara...what is... Is this real?" The brunette seems full of despair, blue eyes shimmering with what appears to be unshed tears. She won't even meet Cara's eyes. "You aren't sure, are you?"

"What am I...?" Cara stares before it completely dawns on her what's she's just done — how she's stretched them out on the f**king bed. "Sh*t!" she mutters, instantly pushing at Kahlan to sit up. "F**k!" She comes to her feet, running fingers through her hair.

"Cara..." Kahlan stares up at her. "That kiss was..."

When Cara feels a jolt of excitement at Kahlan's mention of their kiss, she hates herself for it.

Kahlan closes her eyes. "It is me you want, isn't it?"

Cara frowns, looking to the wall. "No."

This discussion can be fixed. She can still convince Kahlan, like she'd initially meant to, that it's Dahlia she wants.

She drops her hands, prepared to say just that. But then Kahlan speaks again:

"Cara, why'd you kiss me?" her eyes refocus on Cara, and she stands to move close.

"I thought it would make you feel better," Cara shrugs.

Kahlan looks to the floor as if contemplating. "Make me feel better?"

"You were crying. And you looked sad. And so it suddenly seemed wrong to tell you that I don't feel the same way you do."

"And so you thought kissing me was the best course of action?" Kahlan finds the blond woman's gaze.

Kahlan is shaking. Her heart tells her that Cara is lying. She has to be. But her mind asks how can Cara possibly feel the same way she does, when the blonde has gone on and on about how she wants Dahlia, about how she even prefers Leo.

Kahlan knows Cara's freckle-phobia isn't a lie. If Cara has this deep-seeded hatred for freckled-face people, which she does, then how can she possibly look upon Kahlan's face with as much desire as Kahlan just saw moments ago? Maybe Cara was playing her, wanted to get her to admit her true reasons for moving in so that she could call "bullshit" on their deal and back out of it legitimately?

"I need to get to the station," Cara looks away from Kahlan and starts for the door.

"Cara?" Kahlan is hesitant, tepid. "What is this thing between us? No matter what you feel for Dahlia, I know you feel this connection...this inexplicable bond...between us as much as I do."

Cara stops by the door, but doesn't turn back to her. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

She exits, and Kahlan is blinded by tears. It really doesn't matter anymore. Cara has made her choice, or choices, and Kahlan already feels broken inside, as if the little hope she'd been holding onto has shattered to pieces with her.

IIII

This fire is one of the worst the FDNY have ever faced, for as long as Cara has been a part of the team, and so it is no surprise that Cara feels guilty for thinking of Kahlan at a time like this. She could die at any moment, as is the danger of a firefighter, and yet she hasn't even made a choice between Dahlia and Kahlan, or Leo. She doesn't even know why she keeps factoring Leo into the equation, when her feelings for Dahlia and Kahlan are stronger, she has come to realize. It's really a choice between those two now, no matter the way Leo makes her smile and warms her heart.

_Warms my heart? What is this, a goddamn romance novel?_ _And, what, I seriously have feelings for Kahlan?_

Cara is yanked back to the moment with a cough when smoke fills her lungs.

The fire call came in at 10:34 a.m. Chief Gates said the blaze appears to have started near the front windows, then quickly climbed the building's side before spreading from there. It took about 18 minutes before the house was engulfed, and was that way by the time they arrived.

Now, just four minutes later, the majority of the street is blazing in flames. Cara helps hose down the area.

Working in two teams, the crew makes various attempts to free people from the third and fourth floors. Six people are pulled from the higher windows, but two remain.

When Battalion Cheif Edward Dawson asks Cara if she's going to go running into the building as she usually does, and she decides she's fine where she is, he just about topples over while on top of a truck retrieving more supplies. He never thought he'd see the day that Cara Mason passes up a chance to play superhero.

But here she is, helping on the sidelines instead.

_What could have made her decide that today was the day to play it safe with her life_? Dawson wonders.

IIII

"Absorption lines," Mr. Gregory begins, "I'm talking about the most prominent ones. What are they when it comes to the spectrum of a star with a surface of 30, 000K, 2800K, and 5800K?"

As students battle to answer the questions, Kahlan has her hands propped under her chin, pondering the predicament she's gotten herself into. How is she supposed to go home and face Cara after her confession this morning? And what is she supposed to do about David?

He's sitting beside her now, whispering of days they can get together and do whatever. Kahlan doesn't want to do 'whatever' with him. Not now. Not any day.

"Not now," she whispers to him.

"Then when?"

"Maybe never again." She turns to him to emphasize her point, and the hurt she sees on his face makes her wish she'd never dragged him into this. "I'm sorry, David."

His face appears to tighten and he sits backs, looking off into the distance.

IIII

Peter stands in a booth at a shooting range, firing away. This range consists of a comprehensive program of education for men, women and teenagers, ranging from beginner to advanced study, and instruction is geared toward learning the proper use and handling of firearms with an offer of an NRA Instructor Certification program. But Peter needs none of that. He's been a marksman for years. He is "doubled up" in ear protection by using both earplugs and over the head earmuffs and has selected a top pistol. Most indoor ranges restrict the use of certain powerful calibers, rifles or the use of fully automatic weapons, but not this one. Peter uses .50 caliber bullets and higher. And he decimates the targets each and every time.

IIII

"Peter?" The old woman with the warm gray eyes opens the door. "Well, this is a surprise. You rarely visit during the night. Where's Margaret?"

"Good to see you, too, nana," Peter moves past the woman to stand by a table in the living room, head bent.

Opal Cantor watches her grandson with much concern. In all the time she has known Peter, he has never sulked in front of her...until now. "Peter," she closes the door and slowly moves behind him, cautious. "What's wrong?"

"You ever thought about killing anyone, nana?" He spins to her abruptly, expression grim.

"Well, that depends," she smiles. "If we're talking about men, there have been one too many." She expected a chuckle, but sees that Peter is quite serious. "Here," her features descend into worry, "have a seat, boy." She gestures toward the chairs by the table.

Peter quickly takes a seat across from her, hands running frustratedly across his face. The woman is 88 years old and Peter knows she doesn't need the added stress of worrying about her grandson's sudden homicidal tendencies, but he feels he has no one else to turn to.

"Who are you thinking about killing and why?" Opal presses.

Peter takes this time to think. _Should I tell her the truth? Deflect? _Two minutes go by before he answers. "People are blaming me, nana. Me and Margaret," he rests his chin on clasped hands, "for Lacey. Saying she should have been with us and not some nanny," his pained eyes center on the rug.

"Oh, Peter." Opal leans closer. "You and Margaret, you had no other choice. You both work and -"

"- That's the thing!" He raises his voice. "Margaret's blaming herself, saying she should have been a simple housewife! I'm blaming myself, which is well-deserved because I could have taken off that day!"

"Peter..."

"I shouldn't have let her go to that recreation center. That building was a mess to begin with, offering a mix of just about everything. When the nanny called saying - not asking but saying - that she would be taking Lacey to the elevator building that was becoming famous for its 'fun kid atmosphere,' I should have said no! I should have said no to the Express Makers 331 elevator building!" He stands, turning his back to the older woman. "Don't you see, nana? No matter how you look at it, either one of us can be blamed. We're hard enough on ourselves about it. We don't need others blaming us, too."

He turns to face her. "Besides...there's another that can be blamed far more than us."

"You don't mean... Peter, she was -"

"- It was her job to save Lacey and those other kids. Instead she, -"

"- Saved an old woman like me?" Opal raises an eyebrow.

"Nana, that's not what I mean."

"Don't patronize me, Peter. I've heard your rantings. Instead of praising that young woman for saving the life of even one person, you - like others - have been blaming her for 'choosing' the old over the young. That's ageism if I ever heard of it."

"Ageism is typically the other way around, nana."

"Have a seat," the woman grabs a cup of coffee from the table and rests it in her lap."

Peter sighs heavily, but does as told.

"That young woman - saving the person she did - It wasn't a choice. Lacey and the others..." Opal's hands start to shake, and her eyes start to water. "Well, you know the story. This Cara woman couldn't get to them." She looks up at her grandson, tears now flowing freely down her face. "How I wish she had been able to. But this hatred you're carrying around. This hatred that has you speaking of murder? Let it go."

"But, nana -"

"- Forgiveness will set you free, Peter. I know that better than anyone. And in this case, you really have nothing to forgive. It wasn't the young woman's fault any more than it was yours or Margaret's."

"But -"

"- What if someone wanted to do the same thing to you? Out of some misplaced justice for Lacey? It wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"That's different," Peter grinds his teeth.

"No, it isn't." Opal stares back into her cup. "You should talk to this Cara woman, face to face. Hear her side...from her own lips and not the media's filter. Then you'll see how much it isn't different."

IIII

Cara arrives home around 8:30 p.m. and enters to find Kahlan's packed bags taking up half of of the living room, and Kahlan dragging an extra one down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Cara closes the door behind them, looking up at the brunette.

"I think that's pretty clear, Cara. I can't stay here. Not after earlier this morning." She halts at the bottom of the staircase.

"You're not going anywhere." Cara walks to her, placing her hands over Kahlan's, where they rest on luggage.

Kahlan makes a confused face, staring down at their touching fingers and then back at Cara. "How can you want me here after... Won't it complicate things? Not just for just, but for your relationship with Dahlia?"

"Dahlia and I are taking a break." Cara's jaw sets firm.

Kahlan doesn't hide her surprise. "Because of me?" She looks off to the side and then back. "Cara, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean - "

"Yes, because of you," Cara smirks.

Kahlan looks perturbed. _Why is Cara smirking? And why is she touching my hands...and so gently?_

"But it doesn't matter," Cara adds. "She just needs some time to digest this - why I'm having you stay here - and then our relationship will be all good."

"Why are you having me stay?" Kahlan's eyebrows lift.

Cara leans in closer. "We have a deal, don't we? I let you stay here. You get me over my so-called phobia."

"But didn't you have me tell you my feelings earlier...so that you would have ample reason to throw me out?"

Cara thinks about this for a moment._ So that's what Kahlan believes._ It's definitely better to go with that than to say anything incriminating.

"Yes," she answers. "But then I came to my senses and remembered that this is a challenge, and that I never back down from a challenge."

_Except for maybe when it came to that fire earlier today_. _What the hell was that about? At least those two made it out okay._

"You don't think anything has changed between us?" Kahlan's voice brings her back.

"Why should it?" Cara shrugs, caressing the brunette's hand. "You want me. But plenty of people want me. The point is...neither they nor you can have me."

Now Kahlan smirks, looking over Cara's firefighter attire. "That's a challenge in itself, isn't it?"

"You can view it however you want," Cara pulls back a bit. "Dahlia may be pulling away from me, and Leo holding off because I told him to, but they'll soon see that you're not the problem. If anything, they should be worried about each other."

"That's your challenge?" Part of Kahlan wants to laugh. "To disapprove me as an option to your other two options?"

"Part of it." Cara snatches away the luggage. "The other part is making sure you don't change me." She sneers, and Kahlan folds her arms across her chest.

Cara moves up the stairs, past Kahlan, then halts to look over shoulder. "I dare you, Kahlan... Change me." Her head turns back around and she continues her ascent upstairs. "If you can."

The little vein in Kahlan's head starts to pulsate as she watches the bitch slowly disappear from her view.


	5. PART 2 of PART 3

**Note:** The harshest curse words/"naughty words" have been bleeped out (mainly the F-word, which is a word I went overboard with for Part 3, though mainly attributed to Cara's personality), since this is the PG-13/TV-14 version. The uncensored version is at LiveJournal under the same title/same user name.

IIII

At midnight, hours after unpacking and few spoken words, Cara is barely asleep in her room. At first, she thinks she is imagining the flash coming from her doorway.

But after just three flashes, she springs up to see Kahlan in an over-sized shirt, and quite possibly nothing else, snapping pictures; the wench is using a cell phone, and it doubles as a flashlight.

"Kahlan!" Cara growls.

Kahlan grins and hurries down the hall.

"Get back here!" Cara jumps out of bed, quickly realizing that she's nude.

_Sh*t_! _Did Kahlan see? Is that why she...?_

Cara moves out of the hallway light seeping into the room and grabs some shorts and a blouse from her drawer. _I could have sworn I was covered up_. Scrambling into the items, she hurries out the door. "Kahlan!"

"Mmm?" The voice comes from a room just a little further down.

As Cara enters, she stops...stares...and holds out her hand. "Pics."

"Pics?" Kahlan plays coy, sitting back on her bed, cell phone still in hand.

"The pictures you just took of me. Delete them." Cara's not one for modesty, but she cannot stand the idea that Kahlan may have seen her naked.

Kahlan places a hand under her chin, as if in deep thought, then crosses her legs. Cara's eyes, as always, go there immediately. "No, I won't," the brunette says, clearly scanning over the pictures on her phone. "You're a very light sleeper, you know. With anyone else, I would have at least gotten a batch without the person waking up," she presses some buttons. "Hmm. I might also have to lighten these."

"You had no right!" Cara moves forward, immediately reaching to grab the damn thing. "I was naked and -"

"- Ooh, you were naked?" Kahlan's eyes widen, her body turning protectively so that the phone is shielded.

"Quit playing games, Kahlan. You knew, or else you wouldn't have snapped the damn pictures," Cara rakes her hands through her messy bed-hair." What, are you trying to blackmail me or something? It won't work. It won't work because I don't care. You can post them to the Internet, as far as I'm concerned. I just don't want you to have them!"

"Cara, I had no idea you were naked." Kahlan looks up at her.

And it's the truth. If she'd seen Cara in such a state, she doubts she would have been able to function long enough to snap the images. "You were covered up." Kahlan looks her over, one eyebrow arching. "But if I had known..."

"Then why did you take them?"

"Because you looked adorable. And it's been a long time since I've exercised my photog-skills." Color rises in her cheeks. "I was passing by after grabbing a late-night snack, and then..." Her blue eyes flash with defiance.

After a moment, she simply turns to her side, opposite Cara. "I'll keep them if I want to." She stuffs the cell phone under her shirt and inside of her bra.

Silence soon envelops them, and Kahlan looks over her shoulder to find Cara glowering. A pang hits her and her stomach flutters, and she realizes all over again just how beautiful Cara is.

Determined, the blonde reaches for her, effortlessly turns her flat on her back and rips open her shirt.

"Cara!" Kahlan gasps. "What are you -"

It is clear that the phone is long forgotten by the time Cara's eyes rake over Kahlan chest and abdomen, hands going to hold down her wrists.

The woman's nostrils flare as though taking in some unmistakable scent, and Kahlan feels her skin, as well as Cara's, light afire. But that fire doesn't last long, and Cara is backing away just as swiftly as she pounced. "You know what? I don't care," she says, "keep the pictures." She walks backwards towards the door. "That's all you'll be getting of me anyway."

As Kahlan watches her turn and leave, thoughts instantly take over: _That look Cara just gave me? Possessiveness…desire?_ She sighs hopelessly. _No, not desire. I'd have to be on her "desirable list" for that. _

IIII

When dawn comes, Cara sits on her bedroom floor going over a game of chess. She has yet to eat breakfast, get a sip of drink, or even think about changing attire.

For the past week, she has taken up the habit of playing chess by herself every morning just before sunrise. All she knows is that it helps calm her. Helps to figure out this Kahlan mess.

_What had I been thinking? Ripping open her shirt?_

As Cara plays against a move she imagines an opponent might play, she sees a flash of something flesh-colored go past the open bedroom door. Frowning, she rises and quietly moves to peek around the corner.

Kahlan stands in the bathroom at the end of the hall, back turned to Cara, clothed in only a robe that suddenly falls from her shoulders.

Seeing that bare back, the graceful line of the other woman's spine, the curve of that ass and those ridiculously long legs, makes Cara's mouth go dry. If there should've been a picture of anything, it should have been of that.

Cara can't stop staring. Not as Kahlan bends over to scoop up a towel that has apparently fallen to the floor. Not as Kahlan stands to bow her head over the sink, shoulders defeated in a way. Not for anything. It reminds Cara of just why she'd been so captivated by the brunette hours earlier, as she hovered over her: Kahlan had appeared breathtakingly beautiful then.

And is equally breathtakingly beautiful now.

Cara silently groans. _No, you did not just think that._

As Kahlan, head still bowed, turns somewhat sideways, revealing partial breast in the process, Cara feels her heart seize. She pulls back into the bedroom before Kahlan can catch her gawking — in the mirror or otherwise.

Swallowing hard, she sits back at the chess board, clearly disturbed. And when the bathroom door closes, she lets out a sigh of relief.

_Damn woman. What's she doing up anyway? _

Cara picks a chess piece and frowns. _She's never up this early,_ the piece is slammed to the board. _And regardless, why'd I have to act like that? Maybe she's getting to me, and I need to distance myself from her?_

Cara stays in thought like that for several minutes...until...Kahlan appears in the doorway.

"Playing with yourself?" she smirks.

Cara stiffens. For some reason, she really hadn't expected Kahlan to try and make conversation with her this early in the morning, and the woman's question strikes her as having a hidden undertone. _Playing with myself? That bitch__._

"It brings me peace," Cara shrugs. "And what is it they say?" She looks over her shoulder. "Practice makes perfect."

Kahlan's wavy dark hair falls straight while damp and hangs close to her face. The towel around her neck soaks up some of the moisture, but she has on a robe again. And it is almost as damp as her hair, its sheer fabric showing hardened nipples and a taut stomach.

Cara quickly averts her eyes, turning back around and feeling her heart constrict.

"I think it's going to be a great day today." Kahlan smiles.

"Whatever."

"Don't you like great days?"

"I'm just lucky if I make it to the next day."

"Aren't we all?" Kahlan walks to sit before the chess board, opposite Cara.

Cara draws back slightly at the woman's proximity. "You're beginning to sound like that boyfriend of yours." She moves a piece. "Never saw a happier guy in my life."

"I've been very clear that's he's not my boyfriend." Kahlan moves a piece in turn. "And, besides, I'm not seeing him anymore."

"Oh really?" Cara looks up, more disbelieving than she is curious. "And why is that?"

"Because I don't want him, and he knows I don't want him."

Cara is surrounded by the scent of freshly washed skin and hair. "Really?" her voice almost squeaks. "You told him...some things?" She glances into Kahlan's brilliant blue eyes, and wishes she hadn't.

"There was nothing to tell." Kahlan looks pained before her gaze drops to the board. "It was obvious to him. That I want you."

Cara's heart is struck then. "Kahlan..."

"I know that you don't want me, Cara." Kahlan closes her eyes, and Cara stares, pulling back on the urge to run her fingers through the brunette's hair. "That's why I plan to date other people." Her eyes open with a lift of her head, and she gazes directly into Cara's. "New York is too big a place to experience all alone. My perfect match is out there somewhere."

"You don't have to be a match!" Cara even surprises herself at her raised tone, and Kahlan's eyes widen.

Cara stares again. It's becoming difficult to pretend that she doesn't care about this woman._ Pretending_? In her soul, she feels that it's like Shota said — she knows Kahlan well, since before this life, this world. And to just let her date some other man? Or woman? The very idea smacks of uneasiness. But maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Kahlan might be the wrong choice. And there's Dahlia and Leo to consider.

Though Cara has narrowed it down to Dahlia or Kahlan, what if it is Leo? _But if it's Leo_, she sighs, _who cares? _If she's going to "go out with a bang," it might as well be with the person she feels most connected to.

Thing is, she's still confused on whether that person is Dahlia or Kahlan. Sure, these past few encounters with Kahlan have been explosive, but there's a closeness to Dahlia she just can't quite pin down.

"What I mean is," Cara clarifies, "being a match is overrated. Opposites work just as well, even better in some cases."

"Mm." Kahlan nods her agreement.

Cara taps her fingers on the board.

"I suppose you'll be taking a shower now?" Kahlan asks, voice husky.

"Excuse me?" Cara meets Kahlan's eyes and her brain almost goes dead. The brunette is giving her a look. A "kiss look" that Cara has come to almost immediately recognize. That look has been displayed by many lovers, and this is no different.

"I said a shower. Are you taking one?" Those blue eyes are dark and sexy, lids lowered as she caresses the other woman's face.

Cara struggles to breathe. Kahlan can't be about to kiss her, can she? Not after they've just made clear Cara's disinterest.

But here it is — Kahlan leaning across the chess board, breath hot on Cara's lips, and Cara instinctively leaning away. She's not sure if she actually fears or anticipates this.

Kahlan's tongue lightly touches her lips, and she falls back on her arms, turning to get up. But then Kahlan is sprawling after her, sending chess pieces everywhere and pinning her to the floor belly first.

Before Cara can process what the f**k has happened, Kahlan's face is drawing near again.

Cara turns forward, offering Kahlan the back of her head instead, but Kahlan is apparently unperturbed by this, going for the back of Cara's neck.

Cara can feel the heat of Kahaln's tongue against her skin and shudders, unprepared for the feelings that such an intimate caress sends tearing throughout her body. She tries to protect her neck, but it is no use. Kahlan is alternating between using tongue and teeth, and is pushing aside hair to get more access.

"Kahlan!" Cara growls into the floor. "What the f**k? Get off me!"

Kahlan pulls back instantly, looking at Cara with still-hungry eyes as Cara turns over to face her.

"I say no. So you decide that forcing yourself on me is the next best thing?"

Kahlan places a hand to her head, looking to the floor, heartbroken and ashamed. "I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me." She looks up, an empty smile working its way on her lips. "I really am a lost cause, aren't I?"

Cara appears conflicted. Unsure of how to answer.

"It's just...when you said opposites can work just as well, and the look I saw in your eyes... I just..." Kahlan looks away.

"I don't have time for this," Cara rises to her feet and proceeds to exit.

"No, wait! Cara..." Kahlan quickly moves after the blonde, grabbing her by the arm. "Just now, I know you felt something. And last night, too. I know I sound desperate, but I also know that I'm not going crazy."

Cara slowly turns to view the woman.

Kahlan pulls both of Cara's hands to her chest. "This is your challenge, Cara. To find out whatever it is that keeps doing this to us, making us feel this way."

Cara rolls her eyes, but she knows there is truth to Kahlan's words.

"I know you say you want Dahlia, but if that's really how it is, then you have nothing to fear in exploring things with me a little. Especially since you and Dahlia are on 'a break,' and you and Leo -"

"- I fear nothing," Cara frowns, snatching her hands away.

"Then let's test that," Kahlan's lips purse. "When something feels right to me, I am quite persistent in going after it," she pauses. "And this...us." She gestures between them. "It feels right." She smiles. "This isn't about making sure you don't discriminate against another person, although that would be nice." Her grin widens. "It's about making sure you don't miss out on something great by discriminating against me," she says firmly.

Cara looks to the wall before them. Kahlan moves closer. "I don't mean to speak highly of myself, like I'm the best choice in the world, but I'm being honest here now. I think I'm the best choice for you." She tries to catch Cara's eyes. "I want to date you, Cara Mason."

Cara takes a step back, and Kahlan feels she's losing her. "The topic of fear that we were just discussing? I do fear things. I fear a lot of things. Like snakes, for example."

Cara finally meets Kahlan's eyes and sees nothing but honesty there. She doesn't know how to deal with that, or this version of Kahlan. This one that is too open, too unafraid of feelings and confessing them.

"Today I face my fears with you. We go to the zoo, and let's say I hold one of the damn things?" Kahlan laughs.

Cara furrows her brows. Kahlan's laugh is infectious.

"And you," Kahlan adds, "since you say you fear nothing."

"I do fear nothing," Cara says it without hesitation.

"Then we can partake in an activity you hate."

Cara looks just as perplexed by this suggestion as the previous one.

"C'omn, there must some activity you hate," Kahlan coaxes.

"Skating. Any kind of skating," Cara breathes out exasperatedly. "Happy now?"

"Then we'll go ice skating. Later today."

"You have school. We both have work."

"I can afford to take a day off from school," Kahlan's chin rises with an air of authority "And Hunter will understand my not showing up at work. Trust me." She takes a step closer. "As for you...you're only going in today for half-a-day, right? It was your day off, but Chief Gates needs you to help the boys with some layout."

"How did you -"

"- I listen to you," Kahlan confirms, practically beaming.

Cara looks to the floor, then to Kahlan, and back to the floor again."My challenge, huh?" she pauses. "I hope you know you'll be losing this challenge." She exits the room without another word.

"Today, at 2:00," Kahlan calls after her.

IIII

Cara stands at a table at the station, men gathered around her.

"Now I don't know when our next fire drill is, but I do know we can't afford another incident like the one we had at 331. These guides document not only the mistakes made in that fire, but two other recent ones by other departments. Let them serve as 'what no to do'." She unfolds the two layouts with the help of others. "As you know, Lookouts - Communications - Escape Routes - Safety Zones (LCES) is an integral mechanism for error management. Used to manage errors on any type of emergency and non-emergency incident or event. But their true effectiveness comes from being taught at every opportunity. "

In the back of the room, stands Chief Gates whispering beside Adam.

Their eyes are on Cara.

"How has she seemed to you," Gates nods in her direction. "Any further talk of elderly prophets and holograms?"

"No, sir," Adam folds his arms across his chest. "Seems like regular ole Cara to me."

"Even so..." Gates spits to his left, a bad habit he's developed over the last year. "Ask the men to keep a close eye on her. The ones in here and outside. Yesterday, she turned down the option of running into a house after survivors."

"Which isn't like her," Adam narrows his eyes.

"Exactly."

"You know..." Adam smirks. "Her birthday is coming up soon. And considering Cara doesn't like birthday parties, if she's all excited about it when we throw her one, then I think it's safe to say we're dealing with an impostor."

Gates chuckles, slapping Adam on the back.

While back at the main table, Cara and the men are interrupted by the sudden entrance of a firefighter calling her name.

"What?" she says, one eyebrow arched, finger pointed to a spot on the layout.

"There's a guy outside. Says he should speak to you."

"Well, does he look important? Just a civilian?"

"Just a civilian." The man ponders further, "A fan, I think."

"Then tell him I'm busy." Cara turns back to her fellow men.

The firefighter nods and exits.

Outside, he greets Peter on the steps. "Sorry, man. She's busy. Care to come back later?"

Peter backs away, sneering. "Yes, later."

He turns and stalks away, completely oblivious to the men exiting their cars to make sure he does indeed leave the building.

IIII

At home, Kahlan speaks with her boss over the phone. "I really do appreciate this, Hunter." She crosses her legs on the sofa.

"Yeah, well, I appreciate you telling me ahead of time. And you gotta go after love, right? Just promise me you'll win her over."

"Thank you." Kahlan smiles. "I promise to try."

Just then, Cara enters, closing the door with a tired look. Kahlan wonders just how much work firefighters face even on days where they are only going over layouts.

"Gotta go," she tells Hunter before closing the phone shut. "You're right on time." She grins at Cara. "1:28 p.m., with just enough time to get cleaned up."

Cara gives an exasperated look, then heads upstairs without a word.

IIII

At the ice rink, Kahlan glides back to Cara, pulling the blonde into her. There's only the two of them, and Kahlan's more excited than she's been in years. "Difficult to believe we're the only ones here, isn't it?" She pulls Cara forward as she moves backward.

"It's a pretty boring sport. What'd you expect?" Cara shrugs.

"Oh, no, it is not boring. What if I were to let go of you night now, huh?" The blush on Kahlan's chilled cheeks intensifies. "With the way you can barely stand without me, I think it's safe to say you'd barely be able to move on your own, right?" She's tempted to twirl them. "I think that'd be pretty not-boring - watching you fall and all."

Cara looks around the ice rink — at how huge it is, the stands, the width of the walkway, the fancy, overhead lighting. Apparently, the rink is a "full-service" center — providing 'a home' to hockey players, figure skaters and the like. They even have ice skating professionals eager to teach amateurs. Cara, however, turned down the offer. She has enough to worry about with know-it-all Kahlan standing before her, and doesn't need three or more different people trying to direct her.

"If you think this is big," Kahlan begins, watching Cara look around, "you should see the Rideau Canal Skateway or the annual River Trail rink. Both are in Canada. The first claims to be the world's largest skating rink. The second...the world's longest."

"You'd better not," Cara narrows her eyes.

"Pardon me?" Kahlan looks away from the scenery to notice Cara staring her down. "Do what?" she asks.

"What you said about letting me go."

_Oh._ Kahlan had completely forgotten about the comment. With a smirk, and without warning, she backs away from the blonde, leaving her to wobble.

"Kahlan!" Cara watches the brunette hum and spin in ways only a figure-skater would, or could. "You get back here!" She is barely keeping her balance.

Kahlan giggles, skating backwards and then sideways in a circle around the woman. "Why'd I want to do that?"

"Because..." Cara's hands are stretched outward, helping her maintain balance. "I'll bury you if you don't."

She falls before Kahlan can contemplate helping her.

"I'm extremely well-versed in the martial arts, Cara. So I'm assuming you'll have a rather difficult time trying to 'bury me'."

"Goodness, woman...do you..." Cara comes to her feet, half-slipping. "...know how to do everything?" She falls back on her ass.

Kahlan chuckles. "Just do what I do," her voice is taunting but smooth. "Lean the blade slightly and dig its edges into the ice. This provides you with the ability to increase friction and control your movement." Kahlan demonstrates by moving along a curve, leaning her body, flexing her knees and using gravity to control the increase of her momentum.

Cara rises to her feet once more, successfully but clumsily taking on Kahlan's poses.

In next moment, she falls again.

Kahlan moves to her side, holding out her hand for acceptance.

"I want off the ice," Cara glares up at her.

"Cara..."

"Now!" She growls.

Kahlan helps her up, but Cara keeps her eyes averted. "How about we get a bite to eat over at the snack area?"

Cara nods, but still doesn't meet Kahlan's gaze.

Kahlan helps escort the blonde off the ice.

IIII

Cara sits at a table in the snack area, staring at an image of Dahlia on her phone. She wants nothing more than to call the light-haired woman and tell her everything is okay. But everything is not okay.

_Kahlan keeps making me feel...things... _

_I have to fight back_.

Cara's thumb presses on a picture of Leo. The other night with him — it was something Cara can't describe. Beautiful on every mushy level a person can think of. And she can't remember a time ever feeling so safe and loved during lovemaking.

_Lovemaking?_

"In deep thought?" Cara looks up to see Kahlan holding two trays of nachos w/cheese and soft drinks. She'd been off getting food from the concession stand, as more people started to file in.

"Something like that," Cara replies, looking back to the table.

"I got you nachos w/cheese with sour cream & onion and beef, "Kahlan says, placing the tray before Cara. "And me the same, minus the beef." She places her own down.

"So you really are a vegetarian?" Cara arches a brow, lazily taking a bite into a nacho.

"Yes," Kahlan takes a seat across from the woman. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because it's stupid." She briefly waves her nacho around. "And, honestly? I thought it was a lie."

"Why would I lie?"

"What is this - 101 questions?"

"You asked first." Kahlan takes a sip into her drink.

"A lie...to make you seem all different and sophisticated. "

"I am different and sophisticated," Kahlan somehow smiles with her eyes. "I don't need a lie for that."

Cara glowers. "Don't I know it," and snatches up her own drink, sipping deeply. "My point is...I can't trust you or anything you say."

Kahlan puts her drink down and stares at the table. After a few moments, she takes a solemn bite into her food.

Cara wants to curse under her breath. How is it that the woman can make her feel all sorts of awful just for voicing her mind?

"So..." Cara sits back. "You travel the world?"

That appears to immediately brighten Kahlan's mood, her blue eyes eagerly searching aqua ones."Huh?"

"Back when we were on the ice," Cara folds her arms across her chest. "You were talking about rinks in Canada."

"Yes," Kahlan beams. "I travel."

"All over?"

"All over." Kahlan straightens up a bit, placing a hand under her chin. "Except America. Most of the states here, I haven't been to."

"You mean to tell me," Cara says, briefly shaking her head, "that you've been all over the world, but neglected exploring America first? Have you got some sort of U.S. bias?"

Kahlan laughs. "Bias? Don't confuse me for you."

Cara rolls her eyes.

"I wanted a foreign experience," Kahlan reveals. "Moving to a different part of the same country isn't exactly what I would call 'foreign'."

"Then why are you here now? Because of some astronomy school?" Cara's incredulity is apparent. "Out of all the astronomy schools you could have chosen, you chose one in New York?"

"I didn't really choose," Kahlan relaxes her hands and sits back. "It sounds careless, but Columbia University Department of Astronomy was the first school I landed on when turning a page." She flicks her thumbs. "I guess you can say it was fate."

Like some hidden trigger, Cara instantly feels a sharp pain in her chest, causing her to double over and face away from Kahlan.

"Cara?" She hears Kahlan's voice through the thrumming going on in her head, and sees flashes of things she can barely make out. Shota's words are faint beyond the noise.

"I'm fine," she raises a hand to halt Kahlan coming to her side. The pain subsides as quickly as it came and she slowly turns back to face the woman.

_Shota, you bitch!_ _You're trying to tell me something, aren't you? Well, f**k off! I'm not letting you ruin my life! If I make the wrong f**king choice, then so be it! You don't get to tell me who the f**king right person for me is!_

"That didn't look fine!" Kahlan is standing, looking her over.

"You're making a scene," Cara stresses.

Kahlan observes that a few people are indeed staring their way.

"It seems that you picked up a bad batch of nachos," Cara tries to focus. "That's all."

"But you've barely eaten."

"Really, I'm fine, Kahlan." She takes a sip of her drink, running fingers through her hair.

Kahlan is not so sure about those words of reassurance, but has a seat nevertheless.

"Continue on." Cara gestures with her hand. "Not the fate stuff. Just...why you're here. Why you're traveling the world."

Kahlan's brows are furrowed, and she's concentrating very hard to push her concern for Cara aside."

"I mean it, Kahlan. Continue the f**k on. Or I'm outta here."

"Maybe we should get out of here," Kahlan's lips purse.

"Okay, fine." Cara rises, but halts as Kahlan actually carries on:

"New York is a pretty big place. Full of some of the best opportunities. So I figured 'why not take a chance and sign up with the first school I landed on'? I'm already pretty advanced, and ain't shy about admitting it. And I'd looked over what the school had to offer. Didn't seem like a bad gamble." Kahlan tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

Cara is intrigued, to say the least, and returns to her seat. That Kahlan said "ain't" is intriguing enough as it is. Somehow, she can't imagine that the brunette would ever use such improper English.

"To be honest, when I was traveling, it's like I was always looking for something... For something better. I didn't have anything too planned out, but I knew I loved moving from place to place and capturing it all as a photographer." She bites on her bottom lip. "Still...I never felt like I belonged in any of those places. But here..." She looks up at Cara. "It feels like something drew me here, and since arriving, I haven't once thought about leaving."

Cara feels struck again, something unrecognizable this time, and it frustrates the hell out of her. "We can go now." She stands and stalks away.

Kahlan just looks after her.

IIII

Outside, she sees Cara headed toward the car and huries to catch up with her. "Cara! Cara, wait, what's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong," Cara spins to face her. "You bring me here to open me up, get me to 'face my fears.' Or more accurately, 'something I hate'... Well, I say it's your turn. I'm tired of being the one under the microscope."

"Okay, that's fine," Kahlan pulls her purse over her shoulder. "The zoo then?"

"No, not the damn zoo." Cara heads toward the street. "Snakes aren't what you're most afraid of, right?" She reaches the street and holds out her hand, "Taxi!"

Kahlan's eyes go wide with shock, and she dashes to the blond, grabbing hold of that raised arm. "What are you doing?" she squeaks.

"I say we go big, since that'll make us about even. Tackle your biggest fear, Kahlan." Cara pushes the woman away just enough to continue waving for a taxi."

"Cara, I can't." Kahlan's eyes are welling up with tears.

A taxi makes it way up to the two.

"Yes, you can," Cara opens the door.

"You're doing this to hurt me," the words leave Kahlan's mouth bitterly.

"No, Kahlan, I'm not." She stares the brunette straight in the eyes. "Am I doing it to put us on sort of the same footing? Yes, I already admitted that." She holds up a finger to the driver to signal "one moment" before turning back to Kahlan. "But I'm also doing it because you need it."

Kahlan looks to the taxi and images of the man who'd almost succeeded in kidnapping her flash through her mind. She sees her father chasing after her. Hears her mother in the background. "No!" her eyes shut closed.

"Kahlan," Cara touches her hands to her shoulders. "It's just a ride, okay? I know that it sucks, what happened to you as a child, but are you going to let this dictate your life forever? Never being able to get into a cab because of the memory of some sicko?"

Kahlan opens her eyes to view the woman before her. She has a frown on her face and it's clear she isn't letting up.

"You had a chance to decide things for me today," Cara presses. "And when you did, you expected me to trust you. I think it's only fair that you do the same in turn."

Kahlan looks back toward the cab.

"I'm not letting you go alone. I'll be right there with you." Cara squeezes her shoulders.

"But your car..." Kahlan's voice sounds weak, lost.

"I can have it brought to me afterward," Cara's tone is soothing but direct. "Right now, though...let's take this ride together."

Kahlan gives Cara one last hesitant look before being assisted into the taxi.

As they enter, Kahlan grasps her hand, and, when the door shuts, she doesn't let go.

They ride in silence — Kahlan silently crying as she looks out the window, and Cara watching her. When she sees Kahlan shake, she squeezes her hand just a little bit tighter.

IIII

It isn't until hours later that they arrive home. They had stayed at a park for most of the day. And while some people recognized Cara as the famed firefighter, most left her alone. Kahlan'd sat watching some kids randomly play by the swings.

Nearing dusk, they'd gotten dinner from a burger joint across the street, where Cara's car had been returned to her, and they still hadn't spoken a word to each other since the taxi ride.

And that holds true even now, as Cara closes the door behind them, watching Kahlan head for the stairs. She has begun to consider that Kahlan may be angry with her, and that she shouldn't have pressured the woman into the overwhelming experience.

Until...Kahlan spins on her heel and heads right for her.

It is without warning — the hug she plants on Cara. "Thank you," she whispers into the firefighter's ear. "If you ever decide to break down all your barriers, maybe you'd be willing to come with me sometime?" She pulls back, looking into the stunned woman's eyes. "Travel the world with me, Cara."

Kahlan raises one of Cara's palms to her cheek. "They're just freckles. And when we travel together, you can think of it as repayment - what you did for me today." She moves backward toward the stairs.

Kahlan hasn't felt this awakened — this free — in a very long time, and it shows, her smile stretching to the limit. If she'd known that all it would take is a taxi ride to free herself of such a paralyzing phobia, then she'd done it ages ago. She supposes she'll always be just a little hesitant about it. But now, thanks to Cara, she doesn't have to be a total oddity when it comes to paid transportation.

"I really think I'll be winning this challenge," Kahlan says with a knowing grin before racing up the stairs.

Cara gawks, and is in obvious contemplation. But she isn't given much time to make sense of Kahlan's words or what they have done to her own psyche, because no more than twenty seconds later, she hears a piercing screech.

"Kahlan!" She chases up after the brunette, only to find the woman standing on a bed looking around frantically.

"What in the -"

"- A frog! A tiny frog, I saw it!"

"A frog?" Cara moves further into Kahlan's room. "You sure not a spider? Or a roach? Not that I have roaches. I mean -"

"- Yes, a frog! A tiny one. It's somewhere in here, but it disappeared behind a crevice." Kahlan steps off the bed and moves quickly to the blonde. "I can't stay in here tonight."

"What?" Cara looks briefly over the room. "Because of a damn frog?"

"Yes, because of a damn frog!" Kahlan pouts and damn well near stumps. "Me and critters - we don't mix well."

"First," Cara points a finger, "that's the first time I've ever heard of a frog referred to as 'a critter'. Second...what happened to us facing our fears? Things we hate?"

"I've faced one too many for one day, I think you will agree," Kahlan raises her chin indignantly. "And I don't hate frogs. It's just that I...I can't stand them."

"Okay, fine," Cara chuckles. "Feel free to sleep on the couch downstairs." She turns to leave. "I'm off to bed. Will figure out this frog situation later," she yawns.

"No, a couch will not do," Kahlan puffs.

"Come again?" Cara spins back to face her.

"I don't do well on couches. Can never manage to fall asleep on them."

"Then use the floor," Cara gestures.

"Same problem."

"Not my problem."

"Cara, I can only fall asleep on a bed."

"And this house has four bedrooms."

"Only two of which have a bed." Kahlan folds her arms across her chest. "You know this, Cara. Or else you'd suggested I sleep in one of the spare bedrooms instead."

"You're not suggesting that we -"

"- Share the same bed?"

Cara arches a brow.

Kahlan holds her ground. "Yes, that's the only solution."

"Hell no."

"Oh, c'omn, Cara," Kahlan moves closer. "What does it matter, if you don't find me even remotely sexually attractive? I promise to stay on my side of the bed and to not be a hindrance to you at all."

IIII

To say that Cara cannot sleep is an understatement. Right here beside Kahlan and her soft breathing in the darkness, she has a sneaking suspicion that this is a test.

_Well, I will not break!_ she glances over at the woman.

Kahlan is asleep, Cara is sure of it. But what if she were to snuggle up to Cara? What would Cara do then? Would it be so terribly horrible to wake in a position like that...with Kahlan? Maybe she should just let Kahlan continue to snuggle with her?

The king size bed is big enough, certainly, but what if Kahlan were to roll right on top of her?

Cara shiveres at the thought of being pressed against the brunette, and remembers the way Kahlan's wet body felt when pressed against hers the other day. Sleep definitely wouldn't be had if something similar to that were to happen.

She slowly turns to look at Kahlan in the moonlight. The woman is turned away from her, her neck and parts of her back delicately exposed by the thin-laced spaghetti-strap top.

_Why am I ogling Kahlan like this_? she frowns. _Is it any surprise that she thinks there's hope for us romatically...sexually_? _I'm sending goddamned mixed signals. It's not on purpose, but if I'm confused (and I am), then just how confused is Kahlan?_

_Why can't I just give into her? I'm free. She's free. And it's not like our living situation makes a hell of a lot of sense. Staying under the same roof because we both 'feel something' between us? That's just another way of saying we want to f**k. _

_Surely, Kahlan's figured out that I don't exactly abhor her freckles, and what hatred I do associate with them has nothing to do with her. _

_So then why... _

_Because you don't like to lose!_ Cara's mind fires back. _That bitch is trying to win you over, when she may not even be the right damn choice. She came into this trying to change you!... __She has changed you, and with so damn little effort. And you, Cara Mason, don't want to admit it._

_Damn right! I don't want to admit__ it_, Cara rages right back. _Why should I pick her?! Give me one f**king reason I should pick her, when Dahlia and Leo accept me as I am? But she...she sees me as some project that needs fixing? _

_Why should I choose her just because my insides are telling me to - that this is the one Shota was speaking of - when I don't f**king believe in fate? When, for all I know, it could just be my overactive libido, doing whatever the f**k it can to get some pu*sy?_

Cara's mind goes back to that morning in her room when Kahlan had her pressed to the floor. Those feelings that had coursed through her, and how she'd barely been able to utter any protest. That wasn't just about 'getting pu*sy.' Her mind may have been consumed with the idea of turning Kahlan over and taking her repeatedly, sure, but as she'd violently rejected that idea, there had also been these simultaneous feelings coursing through her.

And now, in the present, the moment she was dreading happens — Kahlan pressing close to her. And along with that fear, there is a thrill of something exhilarating, frightening and disorienting. It makes her feel as if she is falling, and every time Kahlan draws closer to her, she feels a peculiar fluttering of her heart.

Cara's eyes close and she tries to think of Dahlia or Leo. Having sex with one of them instead. But the images are interwoven with Kahlan, and pretty soon there is only Kahlan.

She wonders what life would have been like had Kahlan never showed up on her doorstep. Had Kahlan never pursued her, kissed her and suggested to move in with her. That kiss, as chaste as it was, had opened a Pandora's box inside of her, and now every other kiss — unless coming from Kahlan — just doesn't measure up.

Cara knows the scent of all three — Dahlia, Kahlan and Leo — but Kahlan's scent stands out above the rest. She thinks of whether there is a different scent between the woman's legs. She thinks of how their bodies may fit perfectly together. Kahlan's voice and mannerisms, and ways of speaking. The way Kahlan tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. What particulars excite Kahlan in bed, what Kahlan's body looks like completely naked. The noises Kahlan'd make during physical intimacy.

_Kahlan,_ Cara turns her now blazing cheeks into her pillow, unable to accept what she was just thinking about. It feels as though some floodgate has been cracked open and she is struggling to seal it. She can't let it to open any wider.

But she does watch Kahlan for a few moments longer before turning her back to the woman.

_I am so f**ked_, she sighs.

In the morning, Cara and Kahlan sit across from each other at the breakfast table.

"Your cooking has improved," Cara attempts to make small talk.

Kahlan smiles lazily, only half paying attention to the eggs and pancakes on her plate. She'd been stealing glances at Cara since they'd sat down ten minutes ago. The only way she had been able to make it through sleeping beside the woman was to focus on images of calming atmospheres she'd seen during her travels. Otherwise, she would have been consumed with thoughts of ravaging the blond beauty. And she couldn't very well afford another incident of forcing herself on the woman. She needed to appear appealing to Cara, not desperate. Cara had surprised her with that taxi ride, for sure — her insistence that she was trying to help, the gentleness in her voice, the handholding. All of it sparked new hope in Kahlan that a romance with Cara is possible.

_Cara couldn't have been playing with my emotions, right? She wouldn't have been so awful as to make me experience that just for the sake of dishing out 'equal treament,' would she? There had to be some level of 'caring about me' in that. Right?_

"I certainly never anticipated sharing a bed with you after that meeting on my doorstep," Cara mutters, scooping up a spoonful of grits.

"No, you expected Dahlia or Leo," Kahlan replies with the fakest smile, looking to gauge the firefighter's reaction.

It's definitely a success. Cara scowls before playing if off with a smirk. "Well, can you blame me? They're charming. You're not."

"Hmm." Kahlan thoroughly approves of the tank top and panties the other woman has on. Cara never usually wears panties. It's always boxers, or "nothing at all," she says. She's slim, well-toned in all the right places. And those arms? No doubt ones of a firefighter.

Kahlan can't help but appreciate it all.

"Are you looking at me?" Cara asks incredulously, tilting her head slightly to the side.

Startled at being caught, Kahlan takes in a mouthful of food. "I'm not sure what you mean," she mumbles. "I'm trying to enjoy my meal in spite of your antagonizing remarks," she affirms. "I don't know why you'd presume to think I'd be looking at you."

"Because you were." Cara grins. "Because you have made it no secret that you want me. Because you've made enough passes to justify my having a bodyguard by now."

Kahlan simply takes a napkin to her mouth. "Well, what do you care? My 'passes' haven't exactly been a success, have they?" She stands. "And since you have been clear they they won't be returned, you don't have to worry about me making any more 'passes' at you. My tactics have changed, and that's the way it will stay."

The disappointment on Cara's face is immediately evident. But like a pro, it is quickly masked, sealed away with all the others. "And?... You say it as though I would care, when, really, it's a relief. I told you that you wouldn't win this 'challenge'," she briefly wags the spoon. "Not having to worry about you jumping me every other minute certainly makes things easier."

"Why would it 'make things easier' if there's 'nothing there'?" Kahlan's voice is challenging, sharp.

"Whatever." Cara waves her off, going back to finishing her now-cold food.

"Whatever indeed." Kahlan frowns and pushes past her chair to leave.

Cara rolls her eyes, sighing deeply.

_Yep... So f**ked._


	6. PART 1 of PART 4

After class later on in the day, Kahlan goes for a walk in a nearby park. Hunter hadn't needed her in for work and so she'd felt that taking a stroll to think about why she even bothers with Cara seemed like a good idea. Sure, the blonde is beautiful and impulsive..._and arrogant and_ _elusive,_ which arouses all sorts of feelings in Kahlan, but any normal woman would have given up by now. Women don't typically pursue a love interest as heavily as she has pursued Cara. And she isn't even sure that Cara qualifies as a love interest._ Doesn't the person have to be interested in you for that person to be considered a love interest?_Kahlan thinks to herself. Other than the night where Cara's tongue had pressed against her throat, she can't really say whether Cara as ever been interested in her. Even that night, Cara made it out to be more about wanting to get laid than true attraction. Kahlan could have been a repulsive-looking man and Cara likely wouldn't have cared. And although there was "something" between them a night ago on the sofa, it was obviously nothing strong enough to compel the other woman to bed her. So why then is she so drawn to Cara? It's something she has asked herself over and over, coming to various conclusions such as fate, just being determined to get what she wants, Cara simply making her feel alive, but she's still not quite sure that there is any one definitive answer.

"Maybe I'm glutton for punishment. A true masochist," she whispers to herself. "On top of being a complete idiot."

Suddenly, she notices a woman on the far side of the park kicking a soccer ball on a green, empty field. The woman, of long brown hair and a slender form, looks as though it brings her the greatest joy in the world. "So carefree," Kahlan says in awe, continuing her evening walk.

IIII

Hours later, Kahlan parks her car on the sidewalk of her home with a sigh. Seeing as Cara's vehicle is in the driveway, it's safe to say that the blonde is home as well. It's also safe to say that she doesn't want to face her. Kahlan would rather jog her legs off than face more rejection from this asinine woman.

"Howdy, Ms. Amnell," Old Man Wilson says sitting in the grass watching her from under his sunhat. He's near a flowerbed, various gardening tools at either side.

With the way he is covered in dirt, Kahlan figures that he must have been tending to flowers all day. "Howdy," she responds, getting out of her car and making sure the doors are locked.

"You and your lady friend, Ms. Mason, doing well?" Wilson digs into some soil. "She liked the firework display we put together?" The old man's eyes twinkle as though he knows something about Cara and her that she doesn't know.

"Yes, she found it lovely," Kahlan replies, placing her keys into her pocket._ Lovely_ isn't quite the right word; it's more that Cara didn't hate it, but there's no reason that Wilson shouldn't believe that his help was greatly appreciated, even if not by Cara. "I'm afraid it was a bad idea to do it so late, though," Kahlan adds, "waking the neighbors up and all that."

"Oh don't you worry about them," Wilson says, waving her off. "I'm in good standing with the lot, and if I say it was for a good cause, it was for a good cause."

All Kahlan can do is smile at that. "Thanks, Wilson," she says, heading for the front door.

"Let me know if you need any other favor."

"Will do," she tells him.

As she enters her home, she spots Cara on the sofa watching television. The blonde is dressed comfortably in shorts and a top and has her feet propped up on the table near a bag of chips and soda. "You're home early," she tells Kahlan, immediately sitting up with interest.

"I could say the same about you," Kahlan replies, closing the door gently behind her and twisting its lock.

"Well, besides not being needed as much today, there was a close call of a reporter almost having followed me home," Cara reveals. "Maybe it's time that I move again."

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same," Kahlan says pointedly, moving toward the stairs.

"What?" Cara takes a double take, panic temporarily creeping into her voice.

Kahlan is surprised by the squeak and halts to view the woman. "I've been thinking that it might be easier if I move out."

"What might be easier?" Cara scoots back on the sofa, clearly perturbed. "Kahlan, we've been over this. I gave you three months. It's only been one."

"Have you forgotten how I feel about you?" Kahlan arches an eyebrow.

Cara nearly blushes. "Kind of hard to forget," she answers coolly.

"Yes, well, feelings like that just don't go away," Kahlan stresses. "And I know you like the chase, have made it a part of the challenge, but I just can't do that any longer. I'm not your doormat, a way for you to get your laughs in, or a tool for you get Dahlia back." She takes two steps up the stairs. "The pretense for why I'm here is over. And if you still have any phobia about freckles, I can help you get over that from a comfortable distance... A safe distance." She continues her ascent upstairs.

Cara almost can't believe what she's hearing. She always expected Kahlan to be here, giving her longing and lustful looks. What can she tell her to get her to stay? That she maybe doesn't hate spending time with her after all? That she quite enjoyed their date yesterday, weird Shota interruptions and all? That she wouldn't mind sleeping with her?

"Eh, Kahlan!" Cara leaps off the couch, causing the brunette to halt at the top of the staircase. "I haven't taken care of that frog problem in your room."

Kahlan turns around, expression confused.

"What I mean is..." Cara starts, eyes locked firmly onto Kahlan's. "Maybe you want to sleep with me tonight?"

Kahlan's expression transforms into one of surprise and Cara clarifies, "Sleep in my bed, like last night. I get that being around me is uncomfortable, but you can't sleep at all if the so-called critter is in your room, right? So maybe this is the least I can do...until it's out or until you leave?"

Kahlan stares, body tensing slightly. Is this Cara's way of being nice? Of trying to be sensitive? Or...a subtle way of saying that she...desires her? Whatever the case, Kahlan finds that she can only answer with a nod.

IIII

Cara can't believe she is doing this again, sleeping beside Kahlan when they both know that it's a bad idea. A bad idea if Cara doesn't want to "lose" this challenge and quite possibly choose the wrong person. A bad idea if Kahlan doesn't want to torture herself with someone who may never return her feelings. Clearly a bad idea because Cara, like last time, is not yet asleep.

They'd eaten dinner separately, Cara in the living room and Kahlan in kitchen, and hadn't spoken to each other any further since Cara's offer. And yet here they lie side by side in bed together. Cara sighs into her pillow and turns over to face Kahlan. Moonlight filters through the curtains at the nearby window, faintly illuminating her features. _Why does she have to be so adorable when asleep?_ Cara ponders, edging a little closer.

Had Kahlan meant it when she said she'd be moving out? Considering that she seems just as eager to win as Cara, she couldn't have. _After all, if she wants me, why give up now after all the protesting?_

But Cara also remembers the woman's words and expressions just hours ago. They expressed hurt. Kahlan is hurt — hurting because of her. It's understandable that anyone would want to put a stop to such pain. That even the strongest competitors would accept defeat eventually.

Cara's reaction to the possibility that Kahlan might leave had surprised her. Something within her had become temporarily stunted before she'd clearly realized. Perhaps her friends and recent lovers are right — as much as she hates to admit it, there's something between her and Kahlan that's nowhere close to being one-sided. She's known that she's sexually attracted to the woman. Everyone's known that. But what about going deeper than sexual attraction?

Although being around Kahlan like this clears some things up, it clouds other things. Like whether or not Kahlan is "the one." Should she take the risk and choose her? Not just as a date, but actually choose her above all others? And what about Kahlan's vow that she will be making no further sexual advances? Cara had felt disappointed by that statement, despite the fact that this is what she said she'd wanted. But surely Kahlan wouldn't reject her, if she were to say that she wants them to be together. That she wants her, period. After all, hadn't Kahlan recently said that feelings like that don't just go away? The only problem is that Cara still doesn't know where those feelings came from; Kahlan's for her, and hers for Kahlan. Maybe they'd come from some distant point in time, similar to the visions Shota had provided her.

She rises on her elbow to lean over the sleeping beauty. Their legs are barely touching, but it sends a surge of warmth throughout Cara's body. _Why am I so fascinated by this obnoxiously preachy woman? _she wonders.

Kahlan shifts slightly into her, bringing their bodies closer, and Cara holds her breath, hoping with all hope that the brunette is not on the verge of waking up. After several moments of no further movement, she leans in closer until she can faintly feel the other woman's breath on her cheek. She leans down and inhales the scent of the dark hair splaying over the pillows, allowing it to brush her nose. It is unbelievably soft, smelling every the bit like lavender.

Kahlan makes a faint sound that could pass for a breathy moan, and it dawns on Cara that she'd been breathing into the woman's ear. A red blush creeps on her cheeks, but she does not retreat because, with her affinity for Dahlia and confusion about choosing Kahlan, she may never have another chance like this again. And so, without even thinking, she moves so that their lips are almost touching. She stays like that, sharing breath with the slumbering woman as her eyes flutter closed in the next moment. She is barely able to withstand the new sensations awakening within her, just by such close proximity to this one person. Hardly able to breathe. She opens her eyes again and leans forward just enough to connect their lips, and, opening her mouth a bit more, begins seeking the moisture of the other's tongue.

When Kahlan stirs, however, she jerks back, heart thundering loudly in her chest. Those blue eyes open slightly, settling on her face. "Mmm. Cara, what's wrong?"

Cara doesn't miss a beat: "I can't sleep, " she whispers hoarsely.

"Want some sleeping medicine?" Kahlan asks.

"No."

Cara starts to formulate another response, but before she can descend into panic, the brunette has fallen back asleep. Breathing a sigh of relief, Cara scolds herself._ Trying something as stupid as that on an unconscious Kahlan_? _What the hell was I thinking_?

But that's just it, she realizes; she hadn't been thinking. She closes her eyes, reluctant to accept the insistent, throbbing between her legs. She is aroused, unbelievably so. Even more than the night on that hill, or that time on the sofa, with the brunette. And there isn't a thing she can do about it, unless...

Face red with humiliation, she slides out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom down the hall. She's hardly ever had to resort to masturbation, except for her teenage years when exploring her sexuality, and the occasional lonely nights during adulthood. But right now, that is exactly what she has to do, for simply breathing on and lightly kissing the woman has set her skin aflame.

Quietly closing the door behind her, she makes a silent prayer that she isn't heard.

IIII

There is mostly silence in the morning as Kahlan bites into her plain bagel, doing her best to be covert when sneaking peeks at Cara who sits at the table. The blonde has been acting strangely since they'd awoken — more distant than usual and skittish, as if desperately trying to keep something a secret. And that's just one of the ways she's been acting weird. She has also been watching Kahlan stand by the counter, quite openly, in fact. As openly as can be expected when trying to be secretive about, that is. Every time Kahlan catches her looking, she looks away with a sharp blush.

Needless to say, this has piqued Kahlan's interest immensely. If she didn't know any better, she would swear that Cara is ogling her. But, seeing as Cara has never expressed such serious interest in her before, it would be rather odd if she were doing so now. _It has to be something else._

"I'm moving back into my previous apartment later today," Kahlan says in an attempt to break the tension.

"What?" Cara queries, eyes wide as they meet Kahlan's.

"I made the call earlier this morning," Kahlan replies with a shrug, taking a sip of her cup of coffee. "Turns out no one else was interested in taking up such an oddly-decorated place, so it was still up for grabs. The landlord was just as eager to lend it to me as he was that first time."

"I see." Cara looks down into her bowl of oatmeal.

"You do?" Kahlan puts her coffee on the counter beside her bagel. "And there's nothing else you want to say to me?"

Cara digs into her oatmeal, suddenly engrossed in it as though it's the most important meal of her life. "What, about you moving out?" she asks, mouth full of food. "Why would I have anything else to say about it?" Her spoon wags around in her hand as her eyes briefly meet Kahlan's.

Kahlan leans back against the counter, folding her arms behind her head and watching in amazement as Cara's gaze drops to briefly skim over her curves before jumping back up to her face. She waits, watching the blonde's face closely...until...

There it is again — a blush! Like clockwork.

Obviously, the T-Shirt Kahlan has on, somewhat revealing in that it doesn't hide the pink tint of her nipples, has caught Cara's attention. That, and the pair of silk panties she happens to be wearing. But it hadn't occurred to Kahlan that her bed-wear might be scandalous. She always goes to bed with barely anything on, even that first night she slept beside Cara. She'd never considered it an issue because, before this point, she had always either been alone or with Richard. And in this particular case, not only are they both women, but, as noted before, Cara has never paid her body much attention. So either the woman disapproves of her current attire and is embarrassed to say so, or really approves of it and is embarrassed to say so. The latter option is more likely...and yet the unlikeliest; all Kahlan knows is that the latter excites her to no end. "You up for helping me move in?" she asks.

"What, today?" Cara sniffs, once again focusing on her oatmeal. "You know that I'm busy. We're both busy."

"I'll be moving in late, as soon as I get off from work," Kahlan reveals, suddenly standing straight as she hugs herself by the waist. "I don't want to partially move out today and take care of the rest tomorrow. I want it all out in one go."

"I'm that awful to live with, huh?" Cara looks up at her with a smirk.

"C'omn, Cara, it's no different than when I moved in here all in one night. Everything got done in one time frame. I like to be complete in most things I do; I would think you'd know that by now."

Cara looks the woman over. "Fine. I'll have the boys show up to do the heavy lifting, and I'll be there when I can."

Kahlan stares. And although her mind is telling her to give up on Cara, her heart races when the woman seemingly gives her curves another appreciative nod.

Oh yes...Kahlan's interest is most assuredly piqued.

IIII

"But it's pseudoscience!" exclaims Timothy, the muscular 20-year-old man who'd criticized Kahlan her first day at the astronomy department. The class are discussing prophesized cataclysmic events that may be upon them, having somehow gotten off the topic of the universe's ever-expanding body.

Kahlan taps her pencil against her desk as Mr. Gregory debates with the class. "Pseudoscience?" he asks. "Then let's hear some arguments for why it's pseudoscience. Do you all doubt that a cataclysmic event could happen?"

"Of course not." Timothy answers. "Dinosaurs bit the dust that way before us, remember? But to argue for a predestined date? Get real."

"Exactly," one woman interjects. "There is bound to be a planet-destroying object on collision-course with Earth again, but astronomers would have seen any such object if it were to hit us this year or the next. Noticeable effects would be demonstrative in the orbits of the outer planets."

"You're assuming astronomers would tell us," another man says. "Could you imagine the panic it would cause? They likely wouldn't alert us until the final hours, no sooner or later. You might also want to brush up on your vocabulary: 'a planet-destroying object'? What are you, five?"

Kahlan smirks. She almost can't believe how juvenile this class is. Almost. She's often seen the brightest of the bright try to outdo each other, prove their superiority over the other. It's only expected that such instances would take place in an astronomy class.

Distracting her from this, however, is David leaning over in the desk beside hers the next moment. He offers her a single rose, his eyes boring into hers with sincerity and that all-too-familiar look she's seen past boyfriends display when trying to say 'Please take me back.' And given that he looks so much like Cara, she's tempted to do just that. But then she remembers Cara's reactions earlier in the day. _Does she want me?_

"Ahem," a stern voice carries across the room, and David and Kahlan look up to see Mr. Gregory scowling their way, his fiery red hair seemingly acting as a torch to fuel his agitation. "And how about you, Kahlan," he says, pointing his teaching stick her way. "What do you think of prophesized cataclysmic events?"

Kahlan doesn't have to wonder why he called on her and not David. Unlike others in her classroom, she doesn't possess an ego, but she has demonstrated that her level of astrological knowledge is above theirs. Perhaps even above the teacher's. "Well, I say they haven't happened yet, now have they?" she responds.

Mr. Gregory, along with the rest of the class, stare at her. But he soon moseys right back behind his podium. "Fair enough," he replies.

Kahlan smirks. This is going to be a long day, she surmises, additionally making a mental note to be sure to 'dump' David again.

After class, Kahlan sits on a floor helping Hunter work on the engine of a motorcycle. Blazin Wheels has been in high demand since she started working at the place. Always has been, from what she's read and heard. It consists of several other workers, but Hunter does most of the work, just as he is doing now with her beside him and the motorcycle at their backs. With a big piece of the vehicle's engine in front of them, Kahlan occasionally hands Hunter tools and even assists him in hands-on work since he has taught her the basics. "The engine flow is basically a cycle of 'suck, squeeze burn and blow'," he says. When Kahlan grins, he admonishes, "Get your mind out of the gutter; it's not sexual, woman."

Kahlan giggles.

Hunter continues on, "The fuel mixture needs to be yanked into the cylinder, which is 'suck,' then compressed-squeeze, ignited, burn, and then expelled from the cylinder, which is 'blow.' All reciprocating engines must go through these steps, no matter the design of the engine. It's called the two-stroke, or four-stroke, something like that."

"I gotcha," Kahlan says, wiping down an engine part.

Hunter sighs. "Okay, enough with the mechanic-talk. How did things go with you and Cara on your date?" he asks, stopping to sit back.

"Oh that," Kahlan responds hesitantly, sitting back with him. "It went surprisingly well... As well as can be expected with Cara."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning...she opened up to me just enough for me to get a glimpse of who she really is, for the second time thus far," Kahlan reveals with a smile, wiping her grease-stained hands on a piece of cloth. "She helped me get over a real fear I've had since I was a child. I tell ya, Hunter, even though it's quite personal and I'd rather not divulge too much, I never thought I'd get past it. But Cara changed all that."

"Well then, I'm glad to hear it. And you needn't say anymore."

Kahlan chuckles, looking at him all bright-eyed. "There is a bit more I suppose I can share: We've shared a bed together. Twice!" she nearly squeals. "Nothing happened, and I'm moving out tonight because I can't stand the torture any longer, but you should see the way she's been looking at me lately. It's like she's smitten with me."

"Maybe she is," Hunter agrees, giving an encouraging pat to Kahlan's hand.

Kahlan smiles wider._ Maybe she is._

IIII

Cara grins at the assortment of antiques in the box on the floor in front of a shelf in Kahlan's apartment. The woman has no doubt traveled all over of the world, and it makes Cara interested in the stories she may have to tell. It's been several minutes since they've been alone. The moving process had lasted two hours and forty-two minutes, with thirty minutes having been lost on the drive over. Kahlan had gotten off from work at 7:30 PM, thirty minutes later than usual, and Cara at 8:00 PM, while Adam, Nathan and Tanner had arrived on the scene a little earlier, at 7:48, in order to reduce time waiting for Cara.

As Cara and Kahlan now stand alone, the atmosphere has gotten somewhat tense. Cara picks up one of the many antiques from a box, marveling at how its clear and refined design contrasts Kahlan's presently disheveled appearance. Neither of them had gotten a chance to shower or dine, having been preoccupied with moving and what moving means for their relationship. And because of this, Kahlan still dons a pair of overalls, grease marks on her face and clothes. "You like to collect," Cara says, looking from the antique to Kahlan.

"I'm not so sure I'd call it collecting," Kahlan says, unpacking a few things in a corner. "If you're going to visit a different country, it only seems natural to bring something back to show for it."

"Interesting." Cara places the object on the shelf to her side.

"Thanks for volunteering to help me unpack and arrange things," Kahlan says, moving to stand in front of her.

"No problem," Cara responds nonchalantly, shrugging. "It's a lot of stuff to put up by one's self."

"How about we freshen up?" Kahlan suggests, pointing to the bathroom down the hall behind her. "And then order a bite to eat?"

"You mean shower?"

Kahlan smiles. "Yes, I mean a shower, Cara. Two respectively of course."

Cara debates with herself. She thinks about how showering means that she and Kahlan will have to undress, about how thoughts of Kahlan undressing, thoughts of deciding to join the woman in the shower, will plague her. About how it means that Kahlan will most likely change into something a little too comfortable that will all too likely be a distraction...a temptation... _Damp clothing clinging to feminine curves._

"It'll be wasted time," she finally answers, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Showering would be wasted time?"

"It's already late, and we still have a lot of things to move around."

"Well, it's not like I couldn't finish unpacking tomorrow all by my lonesome."

"Wasted time," Cara maintains.

Kahlan smirks. "And eating is a wasted time too?"

"Depends on what we'd be eating," Cara grins, eyes instinctively trailing over Kahlan's form.

Kahlan stares blankly, quite taken aback by Cara's suggestiveness. But as soon as she considers that Cara may actually be flirting with her, Cara is rummaging through one of her boxes again.

"But how about we take pictures of you instead?" Cara asks, pulling out a big, professional-looking camera. "You used to be a photographer, right? Why not judge my photog-skills?"

A flash goes off in Kahlan's face and she smiles. "Cara?"

"What?" the blonde asks innocently, snapping another image of her. "You have those picture of me, so this is only fair."

"Yes, well, at least you're not looking like this in them," Kahlan stresses, pointing to her dirty attire. "And they're not even pictures of you while awake." She almost pouts.

"This will do good to humble you." Cara snaps another picture.

"Cara." Kahlan reaches for the camera, but Cara backs up, still snapping away. Something about the action causes Kahlan to halt where she is. Cara is hiding behind the camera, almost as though trying to avoid scrutiny. It makes Kahlan wonder what all of this is really about. "Why do you want pictures of me, Cara? It's not like we're friends or much of anything to each other, really."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Cara says softly.

It is said so softly that Kahlan is at first sure it wasn't said. "H-huh?" she stutters with uncertainty, staring at the camera dead-on.

The camera lowers, revealing cool, composed green eyes. Guarded eyes. "Nothing. What did you think I said?"

Kahlan is stunted for a moment. The woman can't be serious. "Something you'd never say," she utters, voice strained with confusion. "Stop screwing with me, Cara. If you didn't say what I think you did, what did you really say then?"

Cara only stares.

"I know you said something!" Kahlan presses._ I know you did. Something that gives me hope for us_.

"Okay, okay," Cara gives in, waving the camera around a bit. "I was just saying that I think you consider us friends and that I doubt you think otherwise." Cara holds the camera to her side, eyes hard on Kahlan.

_Friendship? Was that all she had meant by that line?_ Kahlan was of course speaking of something deeper when she'd spoken of there not being much between them, and no one, knowing the history between them, could be so dense as to think that she was only speaking in terms of friendship. And even if she had been, since when did Cara consider her a friend?

The usually rigid blonde is now giving her that I-don't-care look. A look that Kahlan hates. The look that always makes Cara seem so distant and uncaring. The look that usually separates them. "Cara!" She moves to the woman, stepping into her personal space, and quite ready to slap her. "That's not what you meant and you know it!" Kahlan is surprised to find herself shaking a little. "Well, it may be partially what you meant. But there's more to it than that."

Cara places the camera on a box to the right, moving a little closer as well. "How do you envision your life with someone, Kahlan? You talk about love and all that, but I imagine just being with someone that I have common ground with. Someone who won't complicate my life. Someone who is the right person for me in every respect."

Kahlan stares into those hard, calculating eyes, hating that the blonde is so robotic in how she describes her ideal romantic partner. "You mean someone who is an obedient dog... You want to know what kind of person I imagine being with, Cara? Someone who makes me feel alive. Someone that I love and who loves me back!"

"And any incompatibilities?" Cara arches a brow.

"Only makes the relationship richer."

"Tell that to most of the failed relationships out there, the ones that failed because of too big of an absence of seeing eye to eye on anything."

"Wasn't it you who said opposites work just as well, even better in some cases?" Kahlan fires back.

Cara's jaw sets firm and she looks to the floor. "I was talking out of my ass."

_Clearly_, Kahlan wants to say, but decides against it. "Why? Just to make me feel better? And why do that if you don't care?"

Cara looks up at her, but says nothing.

"God, Cara, the type of relationship you're describing, it's passionless."

"There can be passion in order."

Kahlan scoffs, briefly shaking her head in disbelief. But when her eyes study the blonde, she sees that there is pain on the woman's face.

"If I choose you, it may very well be the end of me," Cara's voice is stricken with emotion and it touches something in Kahlan. "I'm not afraid of death, but for me...it is always about winning, Kahlan. Always." Without warning, her hand is at the back of Kahlan's head, pushing it to rest at the hollow of her shoulder and neck. "I don't mean to hurt you," she whispers into the brunette's ear.

Kahlan shudders, wondering what it is Cara means by that — that choosing their relationship will be the end of her. "I often can't figure you out, Cara," she mumbles into the warm neck she is pressed into. The scent of Cara's hair, the faint scent of smoke and cologne — all of it surrounding her and drowning her senses.

"What can't you figure out?" Cara asks.

Kahlan feels Cara's free arm loosely drape around her waist, hand pressed into the small of her back. That hand seems to be trembling, as if it wants to move, and Kahlan is temporarily unable to turn her attention away from it.

"Kahlan?" Cara questions in a low, husky voice, the hand on the brunette's back inching a bit lower.

Kahlan is flustered and further confused. Why does she have to want Cara like this? Why can't she just be her friend? Doing so would definitely spare her the heartbreak, seeing as she is seemingly always misinterpreting Cara's actions toward her. "Cara, whenever I'm this close to you," she begins, "I can't make heads or tails if you truly want me. When you do things like this, say the things that you do and hold me like this, what do you expect me to think?"

"Hugging you is a big deal?" Cara asks, voice calm. "Would you prefer I never touch you?" The hand in the back of Kahlan's hair momentarily clenches.

_Goddamn it, Cara!_, Kahlan almost voices. Her mind is jumbled enough as it is. "Touching me like this? No, it's not okay when you know how I feel," she says. "Not unless you feel the same way."

Cara hugs her closer, their bodies pressing in too many places for Kahlan's comfort. "Cara!" she shrieks, pushing away to give herself a little distance. But she's still trapped in Cara's embrace. "We still haven't showered and I'm..." She looks up into those green eyes, seeing electric intensity in them, building like a storm. It's a very different look than the one Cara usually gives her when challenging her efforts. It's somehow more intimidating, and it raises the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

"You smell fine. You always do," Cara replies, pupils dilating as she speaks. "I'm often jealous of how great you smell - this scent you're capable of emanating even after you've worked all day in grease and musk."

Kahlan watches Cara in awe. She has never pegged the blonde as someone who'd take a special interest in how she smells, or that the blonde apparently likes it.

As a test, Kahlan pulls away just a little, only to have Cara's arm thwart her and pull her closer again. Kahlan frowns; she hates being toyed with like this, no matter how physically enjoyable. "Are you going forward with this, Cara?" she boldly asks, bringing their faces close.

Cara repeatedly blinks, almost as though waking up out of a trance. "Huh?"

"I asked...are we going forward with this?" Kahlan says rather huskily, moving into Cara until their bodies are flush together again. She wonders what effect this action has on Cara; does it affect the blonde the way that it affects her?

Cara feels hesitant. Threatened. Kahlan's blue eyes are so close to hers, and everything feels as though she's just awoken from a dream that she isn't quite sure she wants to recall. Her desire for the brunette has gotten the better of her yet again; she has hurt Kahlan yet again. Hurt...because this — what has just transpired between them — has most assuredly been a mistake.

Kahlan gives a sad, knowing smile, looking to the floor. She needs no further clarification. Cara's eyes, and the sudden prying apart of their bodies, tells her all that she needs to know. "You don't like me at all, do you?" she asks softly.

"I - I didn't mean," Cara trails off.

"You never do!" Kahlan huffs, eyes darkening and cooling as she breaks away from Cara. "Get out."

Cara stares, mouth opening and closing to say something, but ultimately saying nothing.

"I said get out!" Kahlan yells.

Cara stands there for a bit longer, but then heads for the door.

Kahlan moves quickly behind her to pick up the camera. "And take this with you!" she screams, hurling it at Cara; Cara catches it, and Kahlan continues, "I don't need anything around here reminding me of you."

The words are a dig. And Cara doesn't think she's ever heard anything hurt as much as that. But after staring at the brunette a bit longer, she eventually does leave.

IIII

After having taken a hot bath and gotten a bite to eat, Kahlan stirs in her bed for the rest of the night. For an hour, she'd been trying to sleep, but she can't stop thinking of what happened with Cara earlier. Her insecurity is back and in full force. It's difficult accept that she isn't wanted by the one she wants, that she'll never again experience Cara's kiss, ever make love to her, share a life with her. But it's something she has to accept. Tonight has made that abundantly clear, insecurities surging back and all.

_Why doesn't she want me_? Kahlan ponders _If it's not my freckles or because she thinks I'm unattractive, then what is it? Could it be because of Leo or Dahlia?_

Kahlan sighs, face sinking into her pillow. _Why does she toy with me like this? Coming on to me, and then... She can't be that oblivious. She can't be._

It had been Cara's eyes that had made Kahlan feel as though the entire world had disappeared in those moments. When Cara looks at her like that, there's nothing that matters more. But those looks never last long, and Cara always goes back to behaving like there's nothing there. It's because of these reasons that Kahlan can no longer spend time with her.

"I have to move on," she whispers into the night. Because going on like this means losing her self-control, her very sanity.


	7. PART 2 of PART 4

**Note: This is Part 2 of Part 4**. It is a two-parter. Make sure that you did not accidentally skip Part 1 of Part 4.

IIII

Cara sits on her couch drinking a bottle of beer, looking over the pictures of Kahlan reflecting back at her from the camera. After having taken a shower and eaten very little, she hadn't been able to stop looking at the pictures. She can try to chalk that up to simply being bored or that she is simply someone who can appreciate beauty, but her heart rate, labored breathing, and blood rushing between her legs every time she looks at the pictures tells her otherwise. It's a difficult fact to swallow — that she wants Kahlan like she has wanted no other woman or man. Difficult to swallow because having her would mean death.

Cara is convinced more than ever that Kahlan isn't the one she's meant to choose. If she were, it wouldn't be this obvious. There wouldn't be such an insanely intense pull between them, one that outweighs the others by a landslide. The fates, or whatever you call them, wouldn't make it this blatantly apparent who to choose. They'd confuse her, as they've done so far, and continue to confuse her, making it so that the least preferred person is the true choice.

Cara frowns, wondering if this means that Leo is the one. She takes a sip of her beer, looking over the third picture of Kahlan; there's a vulnerability in those blue eyes that pulls her in every time. Cara furrows her brows, doing her best to hold the camera with motionless fingers. But her mind disregards this command.

It didn't have to be this way. Cara could be in Kahlan's bed right now if it weren't for stubbornness and a desire to win at all costs. But turning Kahlan away hadn't felt like winning. All her life, winning has mattered a great deal to her; it's been a sign of her superiority. Even saving lives on the job is partly about winning, beating the fire. Escaping death. But winning seems empty now, life on the line or not, because nothing has ever mattered to her as much as having Kahlan. Not since the time when she had parents of her own. And it's because of this that taking chances that had the possibility of resulting in loss had never been things to give her significant pause.

But taking the chance of never having Kahlan? There's no greater pause Cara can think of as the unsteadiness of her hand intensifies while she clicks through the pictures. She sets the camera and beer aside, closing her eyes tightly as she relaxes back against the couch. But trying to block out the images is futile, as she can see every image, as well as dozens of others that she never meant to commit to memory, of Kahlan perfectly behind her eyelids.

Opening her eyes in a sudden panic, she reaches in between the sofa cushions and pulls out her cell phone. Already among her contacts, she calls Kahlan immediately. But there is no answer. Sighing, she listens to Kahlan's voice on the former's voice-mail for as many times as she can without seeming desperate. Three times seems to do it. But three times isn't nearly enough. She thinks fondly back to the second time they'd kissed, when it had been mutual. Cara had gotten a glimpse of the unknown behind those alluring blue eyes. She hadn't known just what she was looking at in that moment in time, even after Kahlan's confession, but now she does. Kahlan loves her. Has probably loved her since the beginning. Cara can mock it all she wants — the notion of love-at-first-sight — but here it is. She had been trying to convince herself that she doesn't care about the woman. Doesn't want her. But, as reconciled in her mind minutes ago, what'd happened earlier, the way she'd held Kahlan, had banished any such foolishness from her mind.

Still...she wonders... Given that she'd rejected Kahlan yet again, would the woman laugh in her face if she were to suddenly admit she wants her? Would there be doubt? And where would they start? Would it be a relationship? A test run? A friends-with-benefits type of thing? Cara knows that Kahlan typically wouldn't go for the latter two, but there's no telling what to expect after earlier tonight. After the way Kahlan's eyes blazed with fury set against tears before she'd practically shoved Cara out the door.

"I just don't know," Cara lets out a labored breath, scooping up her beer bottle and taking another sip. "I rarely do."

IIII

It's a day later when Kahlan sits on a bench of the park she visited before. Once again, Hunter hadn't needed her at work. And once again, she is thinking of Cara. Wind blowing through her hair, prominent scowl on her face, eyes focused on the cement, she lets the thoughts envelop her as she bites on her nails. She becomes so engrossed in the thoughts that she at first doesn't hear the voice calling out to her.

"Kahlan?"

Kahlan abruptly looks up to see the slender brown-haired woman she saw the other day, and she can't believe she didn't recognize her before. It's Kelly Errant — the one-night stand she told Cara about. Dressed in a T-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes, with a soccer ball in hand, it's her eyes Kahlan focuses on the most. The woman has the most gorgeous pair of gray eyes Kahlan has ever seen and they peer searchingly into hers as she fails to come up with an immediate response.

"After we fucked in Rome two years ago, I never expected to find you in New York, " Kelly says, a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, I never expected to find you at all."

Kahlan remembers; they'd both been visiting Rome as sort of a diversion from life's problems and Kahlan had briefly mentioned her love for travel. "I didn't realize I was lost," she finally replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she gets a hold of her bearings.

Kelly chuckles. "What are you doing here? You always seemed more like a foreign-only traveler."

"Well I...," Kahlan pauses, trying to push Cara far from her mind. "There's an astronomy class here I'm taking."

"And you chose New York?" Kelly arches a brow.

Kahlan shrugs. "Luck of the draw."

Kelly nods her understanding.

"And you?" Kahlan asks.

"I live here now."

"Oh...that's...that's good."

Kelly sighs, taking a seat beside Kahlan. For a moment, it is silent, Kelly looking out at the scenery before redirecting her gaze to the brunette beside her. "You okay? When I saw you, you looked a bit troubled and now," she pauses. "Let's just say you're not the upbeat Kahlan that I remember."

"Trouble in love," Kahlan says exasperatedly, eyes focused on the cement, and that single utterance conveying more emotion than an over-reaching monologue.

"Alright, who's the bastard who broke your heart? Am I going to have to kill him?" Kelly smiles, tossing the ball from hand to hand. But when she sees just how sorrowful Kahlan's features become, her smile disappears. "Want to talk about it?"

Kahlan looks to her then, a quizzical expression marking her features.

IIII

A week later, Cara sits by a phone, considering whether or not to call Kahlan. Toying with the woman's emotions certainly had not been intentional. In fact, "toying" isn't the right word. Maybe there's a chance she can meet with Kahlan and clear that up.

She turns back to the phone in her living room, picking the receiver up again. As she waits, the thought of hanging up crosses her mind just as someone answers:

"Hello?" Kahlan's voice filters into the receiver, sounding as if she'd just been laughing.

That inspires Cara, just hearing Kahlan in good spirits. Not that she'd expected the brunette to be sulking over her, but she knows that their previous interaction was...trying. "It's Cara," she says. "Kahlan, I want to see you. To talk. There are things that... I just don't like the way that we last left things. Can we meet up maybe later today? Say around 2:00 PM? I'm off today and Hunter says you are as well, so... I'd really like to meet up, okay?"

There is a long pause before Kahlan replies, "Cara... I'm sorry. I'm visiting a friend today and I won't be home."

Cara can't stop the disappointment that overcomes her. "Not even later tonight?"

"Definitely not."

Something in the way Kahlan said it — "_Definitely not_." — makes Cara's skin prickle. She swallows hard before answering, "And tomorrow?"

"Also busy."

Cara wants to query what she's busy with, but decides to refrain from doing so. It's none of her business what Kahlan does; it's not like they're friends, after all. But still...

"Can't you free something on your schedule?" Cara asks, the emotion in her voice barely under control.

"I can't. But Tanner contacted me about meeting up with the gang on Friday. We could talk then."

"Tanner...contacted you?"

"Yeah... Listen, Cara... I gotta go."

All Cara hears next is the dial tone. She is tempted to throw the phone to the other side of the room. Kahlan couldn't even make time for an hour-long visit with her?_ So much for her loving me_, Cara muses. And Tanner? One of her good friends contacted Kahlan about meeting up? She'd known that Kahlan and her buddies got along, but she didn't know they got along this well. Is the invitation to meet up a first-time occurrence? Had Adam and Nathan also once invited Kahlan to their homes without her knowledge? Were they ever planning on inviting her, had Kahlan not informed her about it? And this friend...this friend Kahlan spoke of. _Is that why Kahlan's so busy?_ _If so, how important can this person be?_

Bitter emotions start to overtake Cara, the distinct feeling that she is being ignored, brushed off more than anything else, but then she remembers — she'll get to see Kahlan this Friday. And that's at least something to smile about.

She'll make everything clear to her then — how she feels about her.

IIII

A day later, the FDNY face their third fire in the day. But unlike other times, Cara's mind isn't focused on Kahlan. Maybe it's because she's reconciled that she'll win Kahlan over one way or another. Maybe it's because she's full of herself, or has simply remembered that there are more important things in this world than her love life. Like the fire before her now.

She uses a hose to blast a window of a blazing house, having earlier rescued a woman and a girl from its hellish confines. Along with her is just one crew. Only one was needed for this relatively small home which hadn't contributed to the spread of any flames.

Battalion Cheif Edward Dawson moves beside Cara, helping to hose down the window; others take care of additional windows, while most focus on the roof and body. "You seem unusually composed today," he says.

"The fire's under control, just like the other two today. Nothing to be wound up about," Cara replies.

Dawson grins as if he knows something Cara doesn't, his eyes only briefly leaving the fire. "Cara...you're always wound up."

"Yeah, well, not today," she says, shrugging as she steadily calms the flames in front of them.

IIII

When Friday arrives, Cara does her best to keep her calm composure as she sits across from Kahlan in an Italian restaurant. Turns out that the boys — Adam, Nathan and Tanner — had dining, clubbing and going back to one of their homes to "chill" in mind when they'd planned the meetup. Tanner had stated that he of course always intended for Cara to come along, seeing as he didn't know that she and Kahlan had been "distant."

As they all sit at a booth, Kahlan has yet to say more than "Hi" to her since arriving at and leaving Tanner's around 5:00 PM, twenty-five or so minutes ago. But the woman does seem in good spirits about something, talking to everyone but her in a chipper manner.

"Adam!" she exclaims. "That's not the best way to get a woman 'in the mood.' It's all about foreplay. Unlike you males being able to dive right in, we women need a considerable amount of psychological stimulation first."

Adam rakes a hand through his sandy brown hair. "Maybe for some of you, but for others...I maintain that just giving them a magazine full of naked men will get the job done. That's a considerable amount of psychological stimulation. Right, Cara?"

Cara abruptly turns her attention to Adam, appearing as though she's just awoken from a trance. "Huh?" she asks.

"Wow, you weren't listening at all? " he remarks rather disappointedly. "About sexual turn-ons and all that?"

"I…." Cara looks off toward the restaurant counter.

"Forget, Cara," Nathan says with a smirk. "Kahlan acts like psychological stimulation is never needed for a man to get excited. That's where I call bullshit. Why do you think they keep dirty magazines at the sperm bank?"

"Yeah," Tanner agrees, twirling his cartoonish mustache.

Kahlan smiles. "I didn't say you didn't need it. But do you need a considerable amount, really?"

At the men's slience, Kahlan feels triumphant, briefly redirecting her gaze to Cara; the blonde is still looking at the restaurant counter, however.

Their drinks arrive, and Cara sips from her glass wishing that the beverage was alcohol instead of soda.

"Cara, you going to stop playing 'hard to get' any time soon and just be with Kahlan already?" Nathan asks.

Adam almost hits him; after everything he's said to Nathan, as well as Tanner, about not pushing the women together, and yet Nathan is still at it.

Cara stares at the table, sipping deeply from her glass.

Kahlan sits up straight. "Nathan, you, as well as the others, know by now that I'm not Cara's type. And while I appreciate the good intentions, I'm currently seeing someone."

Cara almost chokes on her straw, soda getting stuck in her windpipe as coughs escape her throat.

"Whoa there!" Adam, sitting beside her, exclaims, patting her hard on the back. "You okay?"

"Excuse me," Cara says, getting up from the table to head in the direction of the restroom, coughs still racking her body.

"Okay..." Nathan says exaggeratedly.

Kahlan stares in the direction Cara took off in, her face somewhat perturbed.

"I'll go after her." Adam stands.

"It's the women's restroom," Kahlan points out.

"That never stopped Nathan before," Adam counters, grinning in the aforementioned man's direction. "So I'll try it his way for now."

Nathan snickers as Adam heads off; Tanner just shakes his head as though scolding them both.

IIII

It's not in the restroom that Adam finds Cara, but rather outside. Having exited the door at the back of the restaurant, she bends over beside the large garbage can, hands on her knees. If the lid weren't closed, the stench would only lend to her already sickly feeling.

"Cara, you okay?" Adam asks.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "I'm so stupid." She stands and briefly runs her hands over her face.

"Back there...what Kahlan said, it's affected, you hasn't it?"

"It's not like I expected that she'd remain single," Cara carries on. "But so soon? And when it seemed that she... That we..."

She kicks the garbage can, quickly folding her arms across her chest as she stares at a car passing by on the highway. "Maybe this is out of spite. She's trying to hurt me."

Adam's face softens considerably and he moves closer to the woman. "I don't think Kahlan works like that," he says, offering a comforting hand.

Adam's hand on her shoulder is nice, but Cara still feels numb. "Then how does she work?" a bitter laugh escapes her lips. "If she'd treated me the way I treated her, I might have done..."

Adam uses his free hand to direct Cara's face toward him; her eyes burn into his, tears struggling to stay at bay. There have only been a few times when he's seen Cara this emotionally vulnerable, and he's pretty certain that if he didn't know her so well — better than the other guys — he would have never seen such instances at all. Especially not now. "Cara...," he says hesitantly, "she doesn't even know that you care about about her. Not truly."

"But I -"

"- I know. The guys and I know. But you have to tell her that."

Cara's eyes soften beyond recognition. "That's why I'm here today," she says softy.

"Then make sure that you make that clear. Soon. And if she accepts, actually make a commitment. None of this friends-with-benefits stuff. You brought on this confusion, with your protests about not liking her. And now you have to remedy the situation. Maybe due to your choking spell back there, it's already as obvious to her as it is to the rest of us that you care. Maybe not. But you need to make your feelings known. Make it clear that you choose her and no one else. Kahlan's the kind of woman who wants a lifetime partner, and she isn't going to settle for anything less. Put this witchcraft-Shota ridiculousness behind you and just be happy."

Adam takes a step back, heading for the door a second later.

Cara nods. Adam's right. Even if Kahlan isn't "the one"... Being with her...it's one hell of a way to go.

IIII

The group stare at Adam as though he has all the answers in the world when he returns to the table.

"Is Cara..." Kahlan inquires.

"She's fine," Adam says, taking a seat as a waiter serves them their meals. "She's just a little embarrassed by her coughing session. Should be back any minute now."

"Cara...embarrassed?" Tanner arches a skeptical brow, exchanging a suspicious look with Nathan.

Adam sends them both death glares. "So...Kahlan..." he presses on, deciding to focus on the brunette instead. "How long have you been dating this significant other of yours?" He lifts the fork on his plate, taking a bite out of his pasta.

"About a week. But we've been hanging out for two - meaning including this one - and consider each other girlfriends already," she says, digging into her salad. "The romantic kind. Not the 'We're just friends' kind...if it needs any clarification."

"Hmm. And already…" Nathan says surprisingly.

"Wow!" Tanner exclaims.

"What?" Kahlan shrugs. "Some people just meet and instantly hit it off."

"Yeah, but to jump right into girlfriend-girlfriend status?" Nathan challenges.

"What I'm sure we're all wondering, Kahlan," Adam takes back over "...is if this...sudden development has anything to do with Cara."

"Absolutely not," Kahlan says emphatically, taking another bite out of her food. "A person can't wait around forever. Cara wasn't interested. I found someone who is. Simple as that."

"What's her name?" Tanner asks.

"Kelly."

"Ah...Kahlan & Kelly... That has a nice ring to it," he encourages.

Nathan rolls his eyes; Adam studies the brunette, looking for any hint of deception, but finds none.

Cara takes this time to emerge from the back, making her way to the table.

"Food is still hot," Tanner notes, pushing Cara's plate of farro fettuccine toward her.

"Thanks," Cara says, taking a seat.

As the group enjoy their meals, Adam can't help but notice how Cara and Kahlan's eyes carefully avoid each other.

IIII

As planned, after they'd finished dining at the restaurant an hour ago, the group immediately made their way to a nearby club to "let loose." Cara hadn't let loose, but Kahlan certainly had, dancing all over the place, the noisy music and effervescent lights aiding her way. The brunette hadn't said a word to Cara since leaving the restaurant, and Cara, like before, couldn't help but feel that she was being ignored.

Arms folded across her chest and nearly pouting, she is painfully aware of the tension between them even now as they sit at a booth with the guys; Kahlan sits across from her smiling and eyeing others on the dance floor, and it's as though the woman isn't even with them.

"You were amazing out there," Nathan tells the brunette, patting her on the back. "Always nice to have a woman among us. Cara's a woman, too, of course, but she's always here to pick up other women like we are. Never dances." He grins. "But tonight, it's just about hanging with friends."

Kahlan smiles shyly, eyes seemingly sparkling Nathan's way. "Thank you."

"Here, here," Adam and Tanner agree, raising their beer-filled mugs to lightly cling together.

Cara bristles in her seat, slouching down further. Kahlan, wearing a white spaghetti-strap top, form-fitting jeans and heels that are only made for walking, and yet still having danced like she owned the place, had looked amazing out there tonight.

_She looks amazing every night._

IIII

As the car comes to a stop in front of Tanner's apartment, Cara, who had been sleeping in the back, with Adam to her left and Kahlan to her right, slightly opens an eye to peep at the brunette; she is surprised to see that the woman is turned toward her, clearly studying her features.

Caught, Kahlan immediately looks away, and — sitting up straight — declares, "We're here."

"Clearly," Cara grumbles, moving to sit up as well and briefly checking Adam's watch to see that it's 10:25 PM.

As everyone gets out of the car, Cara follows Kahlan up the stairs to Tanner's front door. She watches Kahlan for a moment; the brunette appears to be attempting to will the door open. She can't detect anything definitively changed about her. Indeed, there is nothing to indicate that Kahlan has acquired a girlfriend...or boyfriend even. And the fact that the woman is in good spirits is just the way of life; people move on. Clearly, Cara hadn't broken Kahlan's heart as badly as she'd thought. _It's not the same without you_, she thinks fervently as she stares at the back of the brunette's head, wishing that she can somehow close the distance between them — between this person who is standing so close to her.

Adam, Nathan and Tanner make their way to the door, having ruffled each other up a bit and laughed by the car before deciding to finally retreat inside. As Adam and Nathan continue to play-fight, Tanner unlocks the door and pushes it open, waving Cara and Kahlan in. "Ladies first," he says. After they enter, he moves to the fridge, grabbing a bear. Nathan hadn't been able to drink at the club, being their designated driver and all, and he just knows that the blond-haired man will be dying for one now. Rolling his eyes at the laughter drifting in from outside, he calls, "Hurry up, you two! We don't have all night and I prefer to have my neighbors not call the police because my company is being too loud."

As Cara sits in a chair beside the kitchen and Kahlan sits on the sofa in the living room, Nathan comes in after Adam, feigning a punch to the back of one of the man's shoulders before closing the door behind them.

"You wouldn't have to cheat so much, if you'd just quit smoking," Adam teases him. "Only in your 20s and you look and move like an old man."

"Are you asking for an ass-whooping?" Nathan retorts.

Adam shrugs, moving toward the couch, the action quite clearly indicating "No ass-whopping required."

"Anyone up for a game?" Kahlan suggests, smiling wide. Her eyes scan the room, briefly latching onto Cara's before her smile fades. Cara's eyes are already on her, and deadly serious.

"Whatever," the blonde replies.

"Nah... I feel like watching a movie," Adam says.

"Same here," Tanner chimes in, moving from the kitchen to hand Nathan a beer.

Nathan pops off the cap, chugging the beverage down aggressively as he nods his head in agreement with the other men.

"There's a gameroom in the back," Tanner says to the women as they move to stand. "Nothing too fancy, but it works well enough. Cara'll show you."

"Yeah, we'll be out here...should you ladies need anything," Adam adds, looking over a few movies at the movie rack beside the television placed center-room. "'Princess Diaries?'" Adam scrunches up his nose. "What are you...a twelve-year-old girl trapped in the body of a -"

"- Hey-hey, that film came as a two-for-one deal. Lay off," Tanner challenges, plopping down on the sofa beside Nathan.

"What was the other part of the two-for-one deal?" Nathan asks. "'Mean Girls'?"

Adam and Nathan chuckle.

"Laugh it up. Laugh it up," Tanner replies, throwing a pillow at them both.

Cara inclines her head toward the direction of the gameroom; Kahlan gets the hint and follows her down the hall; and once inside, she shuts the door behind them.

Cara nonchalantly moves to a pinball machine in the corner. The gameroom is indeed nothing special, but it offers an array of board games, dart boards and their associated contents, and gaming electronics.

Kahlan watches Cara carefully. "Back at the restaurant, why'd you act like that?" she asks bluntly.

Cara looks to the woman briefly, then gestures to the pinball machines a little ahead of them before going to one. "Like what? I simply had a coughing spell."

"Really?" Kahlan arches a brow, walking to the machine beside the blonde. "Or was there something more?" She starts her game, knocking the silver ball a few times before waiting for a reply.

"Okay, there was more to it," Cara admits, pausing to stare at the brunette. "A girlfriend already, Kahlan? Within just two weeks? After what you stated you feel for me? What happened to only having sex with 'special people'?"

"See, that's the difference between you and me right there, Cara," Kahlan huffs, "- everything's always about sex with you!" She folds her arms across her chest and turns so that her backside rests against the pinball machine. Her eyes stay centered on Cara's, however. "Kelly and I haven't had sex in two years."

Cara makes a puzzled face.

"She's one of the special ones I was telling you about, one of the only two people I've slept with," Kahlan clarifies, "- the one-night stand. And meeting her again a week ago...I was reminded of just why I find her so special."

Cara's eyes narrow and she turns to face Kahlan fully. "Oh yeah? How so?"

"She's carefree and doesn't dwell on what-ifs. She's not afraid to take chances. She's thoughtful and caring, daring, makes me laugh. And she wants me."

_Wants you_. Cara suddenly feels light-headed, her chest too tight to breathe. All she wants to say is how much she wants Kahlan, not just sexually, but emotionally...romantically. But all that manages to come out of her mouth is a barely audible whisper: "I'm not afraid to take chances."

Kahlan is at first touched by the intensity in Cara's eyes, but the feeling soon fades, replaced by bitterness — the culmination of rejection after rejection. "We're not talking about firefighting here," she scoffs.

Cara swallows. "So you've experienced a lot with her these past two weeks, I take it?"

"It's none of your business." Kahlan looks to the floor.

"I want to know," Cara says softly, frowning, fists balling and flexing at her sides.

Kahlan looks up at the blonde, and what she sees — a myriad of complex features she didn't even know Cara was capable of — compels her, inspires her to go on. "We've kissed, Cara, of course. We've relaxed at each other's homes and talked about countless things. We've gone out running together, gone out dining together, gone to fun and/or interesting places like the movies, a kid's center to help children in need, historic museums. I find her attractive, Cara, in more ways than one."

Cara looks away, the already rapid beating of her heart increasing by miles. This Kelly person...Why would Kahlan leave such a partner for her? "All that in a week or two," she whispers. "You found the time for her to do all that. That's why you were so busy. She's the friend you were talking about."

"Yes." Kahlan nods.

Cara looks up at her slowly. "And will I ever get a chance to spend time with you again - just the two of us?"

Kahlan leans off the pinball machine, standing straight. "You confuse me, Cara," she says, eyebrows knitted into confusion. "Suddenly you want to spend time with me? Why?"

Cara thinks for a moment. With the way that the brunette is asking, if she tells her she wants her, the woman will probably laugh her out of the room. Either that, or she'll brush it off as "wanting what you can't have." So instead Cara offers, "I never stated that I wanted to stop being your friend, Kahlan. If I gave off that impression, I'm sorry. "

Kahlan only watches her.

"And I apologize for how I've treated you," Cara continues on. "I realize that I was giving mixed signals. But you're an attractive woman. And even though I wasn't devoted to you, I could see that."

"Why are you saying this now?"

"Because I was too stubborn to say it before...too confused about things," Cara admits, taking a step closer.

"What things?" Kahlan takes a step back.

"It doesn't matter. Unless you want it to matter." Cara continues ahead. "But since you have a girlfriend now, and I respect that, and I take it you realized that you aren't too keen on me as you thought, all should be fine. We can just be friends."

"Tomorrow," Kahlan says quickly, her mind a jumble. "We can spend time tomorrow. Kelly will be completely busy that day, and..."

Cara halts. Is Kahlan only making time because her girlfriend won't be available? _Sh*t_.

That one pause is all it takes for Kahlan to go scurrying out of the room.

"Hey, Kahlan!" Cara hurries after her. She makes it ahead of the woman, much to Kahlan's chagrin, moving to Tanner instantly. "Keys." She holds out a hand toward him.

"Huh?" asks Tanner, sitting on the sofa between Adam and Nathan watching one of the many latest action movies.

"Kahlan is ready to go; I'll drop her off at home and return back here right afterward."

Tanner sighs, reaching into his pocket to grab the keys as Adam and Nathan watch the two women with much curiosity. "Good thing you didn't drink back at the club," he says, slamming the keys into her hand.

"C'omn." Cara looks to Kahlan, nodding toward the door.

Kahlan stands across from her, arms folded stubbornly before moving ahead to the open the door.

Cara closes the door behind them and they move hurriedly down the stairs. "What time should we meet up tomorrow?" she asks.

"Since I have to work, it'll have to be after 7:00 PM," Kahlan says, getting into the passenger side of the car as soon as Cara uses the key chain to automatically unlock its doors. "The stars are especially beautiful tonight," she adds as an afterthought after glimpsing at the night sky.

_Not any more beautiful than you_, Cara considers, getting into the car to start the engine. "Yes, they are," she agrees.

IIII

Kahlan stands in front of the car outside her apartment as she looks up at the stars. Though her eyes are focused there, her mind is focused on Cara, how oddly the woman has been acting tonight.

Cara gets out of the car, closing the door softly before walking to stand beside Kahlan.

"Cara..." Kahlan starts, looking at the cement. "What is going on with you...truly?"

"Why do you ask?" Cara smiles devilishly. "You can't be too worried about me, with your new girl and all."

Kahlan sighs. _As if I've ever had a girl, truly had one, to begin with. _She looks up at the woman before her. "Oh, c'omn, Cara, you know that isn't true. I'm constantly worrying about you. I'm constantly thinking about you," she admits, heading toward her front door.

Cara follows after her, the distance between them seeming larger than it is.

"I thought about you so much, and it showed so much, that it's no wonder you didn't want anything to do with me," Kahlan says, leaning her head against the door. "Well, aside from your odd freckle fixation." She smiles.

"'Thought'? " Cara whispers, pressing up behind her.

Kahlan stiffens. Slowly turning around to study the blonde's features, she uses one hand to stick a key into the doorknob. "My thoughts are mostly elsewhere now."

"With Kelly?" Cara questions.

"Yes ."

"I object... I think I'm much more interesting to think about."

Kahlan surprises herself when she doesn't immediately enter the apartment, but the emotion spilling from Cara is as captivating as it was earlier in the night._ Cara, what are you trying to say? Are you toying with me again? _

It is too late when Kahlan realizes that she, and not Cara, has closed what little distance there was between them.

Cara reaches a hand to drag a finger along the brunette's collarbone.

Gasping, Kahlan reactively halts that finger, seizing the hand it's attached to in her grasp.

"I was only removing a piece of lint," Cara replies innocently, the piece of lint there in between her pinched fingers for them to see.

Kahlan closes her eyes, shuddering, doing her best to try to bury the intense desire blooming within her. But the emotions are overwhelming, sealing her within their walls.

It isn't long before Cara's hands are on her, pushing her back against the door as the woman leans in to hungrily mold their lips together.

Shock is not a big enough word for what Kahlan feels. Cara had been giving her looks all night, but none of which made her think that the woman truly wanted her. Wanted this. If she'd seen any desire in those green-blue eyes, she'd rationalized it as Cara's ego being unable to handle that she's not lost in her need for her, that she may be interested in someone else. But now, in hindsight, with Cara pinning her against the door, kissing her like she's never been kissed before, there can be no more doubt. Cara does indeed find her attractive. Cara does indeed want her.

"Cara," she breathes in between kisses, throwing restraint and caution to the wind as she explores the woman's tongue — the one tongue she's always wanted to explore. The kiss is raw and sensual, and completely consuming.

Cara presses against her more fully, as if trying to feel every inch of her, what it must be like to mold their breasts, their abdomens, their groins. She gasps into Kahlan's mouth, opening her eyes a second later and seeing that the brunette's eyes are still closed, face full of passion and desperation. Cara grins, lids shutting closed once more as she recaptures Kahlan's lips with her own. "I knew you weren't over me," she says.

That line is enough to break the heady cloud of lust that was obviously obstructing Kahlan's better judgment. No matter if Cara wants sex from her, that's all it would ever be. _Everything's a game to Cara. Everything's about sex with Cara._ She ends the kiss, uttering, "I have to go."

Cara opens her eyes, surprised, just as Kahlan enters the apartment and shuts the door behind her. The locking of the door is all Cara hears next.

Cara stares, miffed. Where had she gone wrong? Was it the statement about Kahlan wanting her?

_But Kahlan does want me!_ Cara almost rams against the door. But then thinks better of it. She remembers that Kahlan has a girlfriend.

D_amn it. That must be it. _

She'd crossed the line even after saying she'd respected it, and Kahlan doesn't strike her as the cheating type. The woman must have concluded that she's sending mixed messages again.

Cara stares at the door and sighs. Either way, at least now she knows that there is still a chance with the brunette. _There has to be_.

And if there isn't, she'll do everything in her power in the days following to ensure that there is.


End file.
